Hidden in a Hero's Heart
by MiseryMaker
Summary: Seeley Booth doesn't talk about his past. He tries not to think about his past. He doesn't want to be anything like his father, but ignoring what they have in common won't help him avoid his father's mistakes.
1. Chapter 1

_**[A/N: Thanks for stopping here. I hope you'll enjoy this story. Don't expect frequent updates. I've barely begun writing but have lots of ideas. Will take some time to shape and organize them. I've been working on this for quite a while and haven't gotten very far. In fact, I'm posting this to "force" me to work through this story idea. The idea is grandiose (at least in my head), but I've been struggling for some time to do it justice in writing. Bear with me as I try to do just that.**_

_**This story will attempt to explore Booth's past and his family's a bit. Recent events on TV have gone in directions I had not planned for this story. Not sure if I'll sync up with them or go the way I'd originally planned.**_

_**I must sincerely thank Laffers18 for reading this and for offering some wonderful suggestions! (Thanks so much!)**_

_**Thanks, in advance, for reading here and for offering constructive suggestions. I do take them to heart.]**_

Hidden in a Hero's Heart

Prologue

Hank hated it when his cell phone rang when he'd left it all the way across the room. He was still doggedly refusing to admit to old age, and near-jogging across the small, sparsely decorated room at the retirement center in order to grab that blasted contraption was bad enough. Doing all that only to hear it dinging that the message had already gone to voicemail was one modern "in"-convenience he could have done without. He sighed as he picked up the still-foreign object. He'd balked at the idea of a phone but had eventually conceded that it made keeping in touch with his grandsons and great-grandson much easier. He was a sucker for those kids and this blasted phone he could barely operate was just the latest evidence of that fact.

As he pressed the keys required to access his voicemail and sank down on the side of the bed to rest after overexerting himself, Hank heard the familiar tone of his eldest grandson's voice ring across the miles, "Hey, Pops. Hope you're having a good day. Sorry it's been a while since I've been out to see you. Yeah... I know. I haven't been calling much either."

There was a characteristic pause as the Catholic guilt took over and caused his grandson to consider the consequences of his actions. But the man he'd helped raise stepped up and admitted his fault without hesitation, "No excuse. Not one you'd buy anyway. Uh... Listen, Pops. I... I have something I need to talk to you about. I was wondering if I could come out and take you to dinner tomorrow night. Wherever you want. Listen, I've gotta run do an interview, but just give me a call back and let me know if we're on for tomorrow. I can be out there as early as 7."

Hank wasn't actually surprised that his grandson had left no farewell. This kid was busy. He remembered those days—having more to do than to fish and eat and sleep and wink at the ladies. As his ears continued to ring with the click of his grandson shutting off the line, Hank thought back to other times his grandson had called him with mysterious requests to meet.

Over the years he'd always tried to convince his boys to open up and talk to him; to make it clear to them that he was always there. He was fairly certain that they trusted him at least enough to call him about the really big stuff. Well... it still chapped Hank that Shrimp hadn't called him when he'd gotten that brain tumor and needed surgery. Come to think of it, he hadn't called him when he'd decided to go back overseas, either. Still, as much as Hank hated the fact that his closest relative wouldn't keep him informed about everything, he got it. Both of the boys had deep wounds—ones they tried to ignore but that were obvious to him because he knew so much about their tragic past. They didn't share unless it was necessary. He supposed he couldn't blame them.

From a young age, the kid had been hesitant to allow himself to become the focus of conversations. It wasn't until Hank realized what had been going on in his home that he understood the boy's eagerness to avoid attention. Still, even after Seeley had moved in with him and been assured that he and his younger brother were finally safe, he'd been a virtual dam. Barely made a peep. He wasn't a misfit or anything. The kid had always been talkative and polite enough to be well-mannered and pretty popular, but he had remained a young man of very few words about anything emotional. He'd been grudgingly responsive when pressed for answers, but he'd only said enough to pacify his grandfather. He'd answered questions about school and sports, talked about plans with his friends, and asked permission to go and do things. But any question hinting something beyond the superficial was avoided; any request for an emotional response evaded. Although Hank knew that his grandson had to have left a trail of girls drooling in his wake, the boy had never talked about girls except to answer mandatory questions about whom he was dating and what time he was supposed to have them home.

His grandson wasn't cold and Hank couldn't begin to consider him that way because the kid's enormous heart was just too obvious, but he had always been a virtually closed book. He kept most people at a comfortable distance and showed them only what he wanted them to see. It was his way of taking control over his own life, Hank knew, after having spent so long living in a chaos controlled by his father's drinking and the threat of abuse. Still, the boy seemed to always be looking for someone to redirect the attention at when anyone became too focused on him.

Hank knew that the kid had bottled up too much for anyone to bear from a really early age, but he could never figure out a way to help him relieve some of that burden. The only time that had changed was the day Hank had pushed too hard and the kid had uncharacteristically gotten in his face and told him outright that he would not discuss his father. Hank had been trying to do what a counselor had recommended, but he never made that mistake again. And the pained look Hank had seen in the boy's eyes whenever his mother had been mentioned had made it obvious that he could not talk about his mother either.

"Old man, your mind went off on another tangent," Hank said out loud to himself. He'd meant to reminisce about times his grandson had called him asking to talk. Instead, he'd wandered back through memories—some old and some fresh—of the things his grandson would not or had not discussed with him. He sighed, the recollection of a very desperate phone call from his grandson washing over him and dragging him back into his memories.

"_Pops... Pops you've gotta come," his twelve-year-old grandson said as he managed to fight back the sobs building up._

"_Where are you, son? What's the matter?"_

_He heard sniffling and waited for the boy to compose himself. The kid never cried. Not ever. He'd seen him grit his teeth and keep playing after football injuries that would have sent most players off the field on a stretcher. This had to be big to have upset the kid so much. As he waited, Hank tried and failed to remember the last time he'd seen Seeley cry._

"_Son, just tell me where you are. I'll come right there."_

"_We're at home, Pops. But they're taking mom to the hospital. I couldn't wake her up. I tried, Pops. And then I called 9-1-1. The paramedics... they can't wake her up either. Please come, Pops. Please come take Jared and me to the hospital. We want to be there. We want to wait until she's okay and can come home. They won't let us ride in the ambulance, Pops. Please, please come over and get us?"_

"_Seeley, where's your father?"_

_The boy choked back a sob and then sniffled, "Don't know. He's not here. We looked everywhere for him, Pops. Please" he had begged," Please come get us."_

"_Seeley, stay there with your brother. I'll be there as fast as I can. I'm on my way," Hank had said as he'd rushed out to his car to race across town._


	2. Chapter 2

_**[A/N: I've been thinking a great deal about and am still trying to fathom how any kid of Hank's could have turned out less than Booth-y. This story explores one way that might have happened. Eager to hear what you think. **_

_**Thanks so much for reading here! Thanks again to Laffers18 for her pre-read and suggestions!]**_

Chapter 1: Before the Beginning

_(on his father) He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it. _

_~Clarence Budington Kelland_

November 11, 1966

As the disc jockey put a shiny new 45 on the turntable and the first notes of the latest wildly popular song filled the air in the gymnasium, crowds of teenagers rushed out onto the dance floor. Following long established patterns, most of the young men and women paired off either eagerly or rather awkwardly to dance. But because life isn't fair and the social environment of any high school illustrates that fact perfectly, there were individuals and groups of teenagers who were not part of the festive dancing. Those not part of the dancing throng were on the periphery waiting to find out if the events of the evening would leave them straddling the boundary separating popularity and social ostracism or whether it would relegate them to the wall of outcasts more permanently—or at least until the next dance occurred.

Along one wall of the gym, unaccompanied males sat or stood trying to look as if they were too cool to dance while they surreptitiously surveyed the room for any girls they might be brave enough to ask. Along the opposite wall, small groups of young women sat whispering to one another and trying to pretend that they didn't want to be dancing—even if actually dancing would mean that they'd be out there with boys who were clearly undesirable amidst the crowd.

As the cool kids danced and the less-than-cool kids watched, a crowd of young men strolled slowly into the gym. All dancing ceased as the DJ stopped the music and led the crowd in a rounding rendition of the school fight song. The Eagles had won their football game 35-27, and everyone was thrilled that the athletes had joined the post-game party.

At the center of the swarming crowd was the 6' 2.5" junior quarterback who had—as time ticked off the clock to end the game-slipped past two tacklers to loft an amazing arc of a pass to the senior wide receiver just steps from the end zone. The dark-haired sports-celebrity-of-the-moment graced his supportive fans with a large grin that lit up his dark brown eyes that were set within a ruggedly handsome face.

And then, as quickly as the crowd had gathered to congratulate the team on its hard-fought victory, they scattered with one word from the quarterback, "Thanks, guys, but it's time to dance." As the crowd dispersed and realigned itself to accommodate those who had just arrived-with many of the girls now dancing with or standing near the athletes, some of the gals who hadn't originally been dancing were asked to dance by the guys who now found themselves without dance partners.

Two of the young women still not dancing sat whispering together. They were among the youngest there, so they weren't too disappointed not to be dancing. In fact, they were thrilled just to be there watching the crowd and dreaming of the day when they too would be among the popular kids who were dancing and celebrating the school team's latest victory.

"He is looking at you, Jen!" Gabrielle Nelson hissed as she realized exactly who was watching her best friend.

Feigning ignorance, Jennifer turned to her friend and asked, "What? Who?"-even as she felt her heart racing with excitement just knowing that for one moment she'd been the object of the quarterback's attention.

He was standing across the room talking to a few of the other athletes on his team and making conversation with some of the less popular boys who had joined in the circle gratefully—happy to have a reason other than unpopularity to be hanging on the sidelines at the dance. He had on jeans that fit him too well and a crisp white t-shirt hugging his taut muscles under the leather bomber jacket he'd obviously borrowed from his father. His untamable hair was gelled into perfect chaos, and his large white teeth gleamed brilliantly whenever he smiled, which was often.

Her breathing shallow from the rush of adrenaline and hormones his one intense look had engendered in her, Jenny had watched as he'd encouraged the boys to crowd around and had included all of them in the conversation. The fact that he really was a good guy was reinforced as she watched as he'd politely turned away a few of the girls who'd been brazen enough to venture into the crowd of boys just to ask him to dance. "Sorry, doll, I just don't dance," he'd said more than once, giving each shunned potential dance partner a gracious smile that seemed meant only for her and somehow leaving each of them grinning wildly when she clearly should have been embarrassed or disappointed. Those smiles he had proffered had been both charming and disarming, and they worked the magic he'd intended. He clearly didn't want to hurt their feelings, and he knew how to pull that off. She continued to watch as Joe sat there as a man among men and used his considerable charm, devastatingly good looks and unsurpassed popularity to win more friends and to spare the feelings of those he wouldn't date.

"Him! Joe B! Oh my God, Jen… He's… He's really, really looking—right at you!"

Pretending not to notice the more than obvious stares of the star athlete, Jennifer tried to convince her friend she was off base, "Joe Booth doesn't know I'm alive, Gabby. I'm sure he's looking straight through one of the girls on the dance floor. I'm just a freshman. He's… drop dead gorgeous and the most popular boy in school. He's definitely not looking at me."

But even as she said these words, she smiled as her eyes met his across the gym and locked for one heart-stoppingly intense moment. Glancing away with her cheeks burning, Jennifer tried hard to dampen her grin and failed, secure in the knowledge that the quarterback had seen her across the room and had definitely been looking at her.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

Joe had just been hanging out with the guys and reliving the memories of the night's game. It was like any other Friday night during football season. It was his time to unwind and have fun. He worked the crowd and helped pull the guys on the fringes into the conversation. As his parents and his church had always taught him, much had been given to him—he was truly blessed—so much was also expected of him. It wasn't actually that much, but he felt that it was his duty to be kind to others and to do his part to take the bite out of the high school social chaos and general meanness that most kids wished they could avoid. So he tried to be friendly with everyone—even the kids others thought not worthy of including in things.

So he'd just been standing there and scanning the room when it had happened. He'd never experienced anything like it before. He supposed it must have been fate. Because his eyes had landed on the younger girl across the room for just one mind-melting moment, and he'd been unable and unwilling to look anywhere else the rest of the night.

"Who's she?" Joe eventually asked Craig, one of his pals, gesturing with subtlety toward the pretty freshman girl who sat talking with her friend.

"Her? The one in the blue dress? That's Jennifer Seeley."

"Hmmm…," Joe hummed without explaining any further.

"Cute, huh?" Craig replied for him. "She's just a freshman, Joey. Leave the little girls alone. They don't stand a chance against that grin of yours…."

Smiling at him, Joe had nodded and had rejoined the conversation about the night's victory. But he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off the girl for more than a few moments. Jennifer Seeley had captivated him from the moment he'd laid eyes on her.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

A few hours later, the girls had pulled on their coats and left the gym with the crowd of kids who were heading out into the crisp fall weather to go home for the night. Ronnie had told them he'd catch up after making a quick trip to the restroom.

Chatting happily about the evening and its entertainment, Jenny and her best friend Gabrielle had made their way to the edge of the school grounds. Inseparable since fourth grade, they were discussing where they'd sleep that night and what they'd do the following day. Both girls had an abundance of homework from their college prep classes, but they worked quickly and didn't anticipate having to study for too much of the weekend. Since their parents insisted they were still too young to date, the girls were discussing which movie to go see at the cinema the following evening. "Ronnie will hate that one, Jen. What about that new one with Gregory Peck? He's just 'to die' for!"

Smiling her agreement, Jen replied, "Well, as long as it's not the James Bond one. I know Ronnie will want to see that one or something with John Wayne. Sean Connery's accent is so good that it makes me light-headed, but I just can't take those Bond movies. Too much violence."

"Hello, Jennifer," a voice said, stopping both girls in their tracks.

After swallowing hard, Jenny glanced at her friend before saying, "Hi." Looking over at Gabby had been both a good and bad idea. She'd been mortified to see the look of utter shock on her friend's wide-mouthed stare, but at the same time, she'd realized that, by contrast, she'd have to look cool and composed next to Gabby's freak out.

"I was wondering if… if you'd mind if I walked you home," Joe said almost awkwardly. It puzzled Jenny that he'd ever be embarrassed or uncertain about anything. He was superhuman—or the closest thing her school had to someone superhuman, after all. If she's known how nervous he was just talking to her, she'd have laughed hysterically.

"Well, that's really nice of you…, Joe," she stammered, "But, you see, I can't leave my friend Gabby all alone. And Ronnie…."

"Don't be silly, Jen," Gabby said as she suddenly recovered her voice, "I'll go back and meet up with Ronnie. He'll walk me home. You two go ahead. We'll catch up later."

"But I…," Jennifer said, on the verge of outright panic considering that she might actually be left alone with the boy who made it hard for her to remember that she was one of the smartest girls in her class.

"You're a freshman, right?" Joe asked with a smile that made her knees weak.

God, he'd asked someone about her! She found it harder and harder to breathe. "Mhmmm," was all she was able to mumble.

"My little sister's a freshman, too. And my dad won't let her date. I'm guessing your parents might not either. Why don't we go back to the office and call your parents? We can ask them if they mind if I walk you home."

"I… You… That's really not necessary," Jenny said, her cheeks burning.

"Sure it is. I'd want someone to do that for my sister. C'mon. Won't be any trouble."

And so she allowed herself to be led back to the school as her friend stared wide-eyed after them. Jenny felt as if she were dreaming or had gone completely numb. It was surreal being escorted by Joe back to the school. She felt the stares of jealousy from girls clearly older and more experienced than she as they moved through the crowd. Her heart hammered as Joe placed his hand on the small of her back to help steer her through the crowd. She smiled as she listened to him skillfully deflect the compliments thrown at him from all directions. She blushed as they reached the office and the school secretary noticed her there with the quarterback. She watched as Joe charmed the older woman into handing him the telephone.

She gave her home number on autopilot, still unable to believe this was actually happening. She listened as he—as Joe Booth himself—asked to speak to her father. She stood stunned as she heard him ask permission to walk her home, reassuring father that he would see her there safely and soon, and thank him for entrusting him with her safety. She swallowed hard as he turned back to her and gave her a knee-melting grin. "Let's get you home now, Jennifer," he said as he returned his hand to the small of her back and ushered her out into the hallway.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

"I told you I'd catch up," Ronnie said in frustration as he pulled on his coat and noticed Gabby still waiting for him outside the school. The guys already razzed him about spending all of his free time with the girls—with girls he clearly wasn't dating. He really wanted nothing more than to rush back and hang with his two best friends who just happened to be female, but he had to at least pretend not to spend every moment with them.

"Oh my God, Ronnie! It's just… I mean, I still can't believe it… I mean… We're just freshmen… And… Holy cow!"

"Breathe, Gabby," Ronnie said as he took her elbow and turned her to face him. "I know you're excited about finally coming to the dance, but it's Just. A. Dance. Stop yapping so much about it. We'll never have social lives if you're going to be such a kid about these things. Where's Jenny? I'm ready to get out of here."

"That's just it, Ronnie! Jen's the reason I'm so excited! She's on her way home already. I… I still can't believe it!"

"Wait a minute! You let her walk home alone?"

"Of course not. I mean, nothing ever happens here and it would be safe and everything, I just…."

Ronnie was tempted to grab Gabby and shake her. He hated it when she got like this. She was too smart to rattle on like some stupid kid in a bad movie, "Where is Jenny? Who did she leave with?"

With a practiced dramatic flair, Gabby cleared her throat and made the big announcement as she gestured emphatically to enhance the story, "Jenny… Jen… My best friend in the whole wide world is being escorted home by none other than the most popular boy in our whole school!"

Ronnie's gut spun on him. He hadn't seen this coming, and he certainly wasn't ready for it. Plus, he was falling down on the job. As the designated male member of this trio of lifelong friends, he was expected—mostly by himself-to make sure that the girls were safe and that they didn't allow unsavory older classmates to take advantage of them. Never mind that he took that job far more seriously than anyone else realized. He had his own reasons for doing so.

With a serious expression on his face, he glared at his childhood pal, "I need details, Gab, and I need them now."

"Sure! Okay, we were at the dance but not dancing, and then I saw him… Joe…. Dreamy Joe B. staring at her! And he didn't ask her to dance or anything, but when Jen and I were walking home, he was just there all of a sudden. And he asked if he could walk her home."

"And you just let Jenny leave with that… with HIM?" Ron was livid. He couldn't believe either of his closest friends would be so stupid. They weren't boy-crazy like most girls. Or at least they hadn't been until today. What if something happened? It was times like this when he wished he was old enough to drive. He just had to get to Jenny and make sure she was okay.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ronnie. I told them I'd walk home with you. And then he went inside and called Jen's dad to make sure it was okay if he walked her home. I mean, have you EVER heard of anything so romantic?"

Ronnie tried to tell himself that he was just worried for her safety. That alone would account for his paralysis—for the terror shaking him from the inside out. Yeah, that had to be it. Because even considering any other reason for him to feel so upset about something as simple as another guy walking Jenny home made him outright nauseated.

His brain raced to find reasons that he shouldn't continue with outright panic. Jenny was a big girl. She could handle herself. And they'd called her dad. That was respectable and a bit encouraging. She'd be fine. She had to be fine. He and Gabby would leave now and make sure that she had gotten home safely.

Then he'd yell at Jenny for about an hour for scaring him so badly. Maybe two.

As he grabbed Gabby's arm and pulled her along, she reminded him quite vocally that she could tell that he hadn't been listening to her. Ronnie grumbled internally. Why would he want to listen to incessant chatter about the romantic, perfect, amazing qualities of the guy in school every other guy secretly wanted to be for five minutes? He sighed and tried to listen halfheartedly to Gabby's musings about the "fate" of their beloved friend. He'd listened for clues—to make sure that there was no other reason to worry about Jenny's well-being. As they walked, he alternated between freaking out and calming down. Fortunately, Gabby didn't tell him anything else to make the situation sound worse than he'd originally expected.

But even as Gabby chatted happily and they walked toward home, Ronnie had the sinking feeling that tonight was going to change everything. He hated change. And he had a feeling that he was going to hate this change more than most.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

Later that evening after an enraged Ronnie had stormed out in frustration, Jenny and Gabby were lying on the floor of Jenny's room and staring out the large window at the starry night sky. Despite the beauty of the cosmos laid out before them, the girls were focused on other more tangible heavenly bodies.

"Tell me everything again. We should write this down. I mean, this is your first almost-date EVER! We don't want to forget a detail!" Gabby gushed to her friend.

"I feel silly explaining it," Jenny said honestly, yet she was still unable to wipe the grin from her face. "I mean… I just can't believe how perfect everything was. He was so kind and attentive. And he's really smart, too."

"Brains and beauty… He's the whole package."

"Yeah…," Jenny sighed dreamily. She sighed and inhaled deeply, hoping that the scent of his cologne from the scarf he'd loaned her was still strong enough to be detectible.

"And he didn't try anything or ask you out again or anything?"

"No, he just thanked me for letting him walk me home and said he'd like to do it again sometime," Jenny gushed. She lie there reflecting on the end of the evening and how almost shy Joe had been as he'd thanked her for letting him walk her home. There'd been something vulnerable and tender in his eyes—something that had tugged directly on her heartstrings. Had she been more experienced in dating and not completely overwhelmed by the events of the evening, she might have asked him about it or done something to convince him to talk to her more about it. But he'd covered his vulnerability quickly and put on the face—that face he showed the rest of the school. And surprised and a bit relieved by the distance that put between them she'd excused herself quickly and said good night. She considered telling Gabby all about it, but something had made her stop. She didn't feel right telling Joe's secrets to anyone else. Besides, it made her feel closer to him knowing that she might have glimpsed a side of him nobody else knew about.

Trying to shake herself out of constant thoughts about the dreamy junior, Jennifer refocused her attention on Gabby and the squealing she was still doing about their evening.

"How did you get so lucky? I mean, you're awesome and everything, but he's just… I can't believe you've got Joe Booth following you around like a lovesick puppy!"

Jenny sighed, "I'm sure it was just some phase or something. Maybe one of the guys dared him. I'm just… Well, I'm just me and he's… I could just drown in his eyes, Gabs. I'd drown and not care at all that I did. Isn't that crazy?"

Their hushed whispers of this nature echoed long into the night as both girls tried to memorize the evening's events.

Jenny had shared as much as she could about the evening with her friend, but there had been little things-the way her heart beat like a drum when Joe had been near her, the way the world around them had seemed to stop when he'd looked down at her and smiled, the way his voice had squeaked slightly when he'd thanked her for letting him walk her home—that had felt too sacred to share. It was hard for her to breathe remembering the gentle way he'd wound his scarf around her neck to make sure she'd been warm enough and looked at her as if taking care of her was all he wanted to do.

Beyond that, there were things about the evening that Jenny didn't even feel comfortable pondering in her own heart—the heart that she didn't even realize had already been given to Joseph Booth.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

Present day….

As Hank slipped on a pair of khakis and a plaid button-down shirt to get ready for dinner out with his grandson, he tried to ignore the twinge in his gut. He chastised himself for worrying about the kid. Because "the kid" wasn't a kid anymore—not even close.

Hank checked his appearance in the mirror hastily and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and fix his hair. A manly man, he went about his business quickly. He wanted to be neat, but he didn't want to fuss so much with his appearance as to be prissy about it. Again, he felt a moment of worry about this unexpected meeting. He hoped the kid would just spit it out quickly. He was already sick of wondering what was going on with his grandson. He'd already dialed Seeley's number three times since he'd called last night and hung up before completing the call. He'd tried to be patient out of respect for Shrimp. The kid had earned that much respect from him long ago—even more—and had never done anything to lose or diminish it.

Thoughts of anything that might be difficult for his grandson sent him into a state of overprotectiveness. They also launched him through the whirlwind of other pivotal moments in his own life and in his children's lives and their children's lives. Involuntarily, his mind slipped back to a night like this one. One on which he'd gotten unexpected news from his son.

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November 12, 1966

Joe didn't care if he looked corny or less than cool. He really couldn't care less. He'd been unable to stop himself from eavesdropping on the girls' conversation the previous evening as they'd walked toward him, so he'd known that they had been planning to see a movie Saturday night. He'd tried talking himself into fifteen other things to do that night, but he had ultimately decided that he just had to go there and try to see Jennifer again. But not wanting to look like the stalker he might be becoming, he decided to take someone else with him—to camouflage his motives for spending the evening at a film he could easily have missed seeing.

Not terribly worried that his motives might be obvious, Joe had sought out his father and offered to take his sister to the movies in hopes that he might run into Jennifer again. He typically balked when asked to haul Maggie around. She was younger and cramped his style as most little sisters did. But this time, Joe was purposefully doing something that his parents would approve of and which would buy him at least some temporary goodwill with his sister. He figured she'd realize eventually that he was, at least in part, using her, but he hoped that the fun he helped her have on the night out would ease her frustration about that. He and Maggie had been close when they were younger. They weren't as close these days, but he really didn't mind hanging out with her some times. He figured this would be a win-win situation for both of them. The grin of approval from his father had told him he was right about that.

Fortunately for Joe, the local theater didn't offer many showings of the film he guessed the girls would be seeing, so he realized that he'd be likely to see Jennifer while they were there. Having taken extra time earlier that afternoon to gel his hair and put on new clothes, he'd driven his sister downtown early—taking her to Phillips' restaurant across the street for a coke float before the movie. Joe had sat in a booth near the window and watched the crowds walk by. Seemingly relaxed and carefree, he had scanned the crowds constantly—in search of the girl he'd walked home the evening before. It almost frightened him how much he wanted to see her again. He'd even been tempted to ask Mags if she knew her, but he had opted against it. Maggie was two years younger, but she was sharp as a tack. She'd always been able to see right through him, and he longer he kept this secret from her, the better.

Smiling when he saw Jennifer and her friends buying their tickets, he'd paid for his sister's drink quickly and led her across the street with the promise of getting her snacks she could actually finish eating and drinking. They bought their tickets and joined the crowd of kids waiting to buy snacks for the movie.

As if fate were smiling down on him, Joe noticed that Jennifer's friends left her in line to buy snacks while they went in and found seats. Nudging his way to the front of the line that was across the room from where Jennifer stood, he handed over enough cash to pay for the snacks Jennifer had bought. He stood there grinning as he watched the concession guy walk down and pay her tab and then tell her that news. At first, she'd insisted that it had been a mistake. But eventually she'd realized that he had indeed bought the items for her. After handing several bills to his still impatient sister, Joe moved back from the concession stand counter. He smiled as he watched Jenny swallow hard as she blushed when she saw him walking toward her.

He wished he could say what it was about her that drove him to distraction. There was the obvious. She was beautiful and smart. She was unassuming and naïve. He loved her hair and the way the curls bounced when she walked. He loved the shade of pink her face generally wore when he talked to her. He'd thoroughly enjoyed talking with her the night before, so he had to admit that this wasn't just teenage lust. If he'd been that guy, he could have been off fooling around with any other girl he wanted, but he realized that he had no interest in being anywhere else. More specifically, he had absolutely no interesting in being _with_ anyone else. It didn't even bug him that he couldn't be there on a date with her. Just being near her gave him a patience he never knew he had. He really was content just to see her, maybe talk to her, see her smile. Damn, he was falling hard for this girl.

Joe had bought her snacks and those for her friends. The gallant gesture had cost him nearly all of his money earned that week sweeping up and stocking the shelves at his uncle's barbershop. But it had been worth it. That smile—that amazing flash of perfect teeth encased in demure but voluptuous lips coated only in pale pink lip gloss—seeing Jennifer smile at him like that had been addictive. He swore he had fallen for her at that very moment. He felt as if the entire theater of people could see a big blinking arrow pointing to him under a sign that read, "off the market." Even though he felt he was transparent as a clean window, Jennifer didn't seem to notice the impact she had upon him. She was seriously shy and somehow unaware of the power of her understated presence and her beauty over him, and in her innocence and without even realizing she'd done it, she had captured Joe's heart.

Continuing his grand gesture by carrying the large box of snacks to her friends, he politely excused himself to sit across the aisle from them. Joe had been able to glimpse one more sweet smile from Jennifer before his sister began whispering to him that he was interrupting the show and distracting everyone.

Feeling more awkward and foolish than he had in years, Joe had sat down and sought opportunities to look over at the girl who'd bewitched him. As he'd hoped, she'd stolen glances his way more than once. Each time their eyes had connected, she'd blushed a bright crimson and smiled shyly at him. He'd reacted just as ridiculously, even winking at her once.

Of course, the night hadn't been all smiles and stolen glances. More than a few times, cool old Joe had glanced over to find the guy sitting next to Jennifer staring daggers at him. He'd shrugged the guy's attitude off, but had to wonder—was something going on between them? He felt pangs of outright jealousy just thinking that might be a possibility. The kid was on the scrawny side and not at all athletic, but it was obvious that he was important to Jennifer. Joe mulled over his options—threaten him, invite him into the popular crowd, hang out with him on the sly, get him a girlfriend…. Jeez, this girl had him out of his gourd. He was strategizing about how to win her friends over-and they weren't even dating.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

As the crowd cheered wildly to show their appreciation and the credits began rolling for a movie Joe hadn't really watched, Joe stood slowly and stretched. As the lights came up and the crowd started moving to empty the theater, he listened patiently to his sister's incessant chatter about how handsome the lead actor had been. Feigning agreement, he'd guided her out the back of the theater patiently. As soon as they stepped outside and slipped their jackets on, he scanned the crowd. No sign of Jennifer and her pals. He shrugged, hating the fact that he had missed another chance to see her. As his sister continued to repeat the movie he hadn't really watched back to him almost verbatim in her excitement, he sat down on a bench trying to think of anything else at all but getting lost in thoughts of his new favorite freshman anyway.

Unfortunately, lost in his reverie, he hadn't seen it coming. He quickly found himself surrounded by a group of girls who made it no secret that they thought he was worth pursuing—desperately so. He'd been shrugging off these opportunistic girls for years; none of them had even held his attention for very long. He honestly didn't let their intense pursuit affect him. He figured it was just part of being the team's quarterback. Sure, it was good for the ego, but he was looking for something more substantial than hero worship from a groupie.

It took some effort to escape them, but he eventually pulled it off. Then he led Mags to the car so that he could drive them home. His hasty exit just happened to prove lucky. For in that moment, he crossed paths again with Jennifer and her friends.

"Hi," he heard himself say awkwardly to the now silent group. "Hi," each muttered back—the guy least enthusiastically.

"Joe, you know our friend, Ronnie, right?" Gabby gushed.

"Sure," Joe lied, glancing to the guy who was scowling at him, "How's it going?"

"Fine," the guy said—only after Gabby elbowed him hard.

"Hey, you guys need a ride home?" Joe asked, unable to help himself from trying to spend more time with Jennifer.

"I… We… couldn't," Jennifer whispered and Ronnie had been all too quick to agree with her. "We'd love a ride," Gabby squeaked and literally bounced up and down on her toes. She started rambling nervously about how tired they were and how much they appreciated his offer.

"But Joe," his sister whined, "You promised that we'd go out to the diner to meet up with your friends."

"We don't want to be any trouble. We'll just walk. But thanks," Jennifer said as their eyes connected and held. Why did saying no to him leave her breathless and fuzzy-headed? What had they been talking about?

Joe stood there just as mesmerized. He didn't even notice that everyone else was staring at both of them and the way that they were gazing at one another.

"Yeah," Ronnie finally said, grabbing Jenny's arm to pull her away.

"It's no trouble," Joe said with a smooth smile. "It's just a few blocks."

And, accustomed to fellow students following his lead, Joe had driven the group back to Jenny's house.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

Later that evening when Hank had knocked on his door to check on his son, he'd found Joe staring out the window lost in thought.

"You okay, son?" the elder Booth asked. He was surprised when his son didn't answer.

"Joe… Joseph… are you all right?" he said more loudly.

Fearing that something was wrong, Hank wandered farther into the room toward his son. However, those worries melted away significantly when his son turned to face him, sporting a grin the size of a small planet.

"I'm fine, Dad," Joe said, the smile barely waning.

"Good night out, huh?" Hank asked, interested but not wanting to pry.

"Yeah… Yes, sir, it was," Joe said still smiling.

"You haven't looked this happy since you learned to throw a spiral," Hank commented. He didn't smell alcohol, and he sure hoped his kid wasn't stupid enough to do drugs and blow his chances at that football scholarship.

"I am happy, Dad," Joe said, fighting back an even bigger grin as he watched his father try to figure out why he was so happy.

"Well, are you gonna tell me about it, or it is some big secret?" Hank finally asked as he sat down on his son's bed and confronted him.

"Her name is Jennifer," Joe said, and Hank knew without hearing anything more that his son had fallen completely in love.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2: Being a Man Means Taking Charge and Being Responsible

**It is much easier to become a father than to be one. **

**~Kent Nerburn, **_**Letters to My Son: Reflections on Becoming a Man**_**, 1994**

September 11, 1967

The members of the class of 1968 were young and invincible. They were smart enough to know that there was a big cruel world out there and that they were going to have to face it sooner than they were ready for it. But for now they were still in high school, and they were protected from the harsh realities of the world by being safely ensconced in the smaller world of their school and their community. Or that's what they told themselves.

Football season was well underway. The team had been practicing for months, and the entire town had its hopes pinned on the team winning the region championship—maybe even State. They'd come so close last year, but the team was far more impressive now and stood a much better chance. With steady Joe Booth at the helm, optimism was the mood of the day. The strapping young man had filled out a bit more over the summer—adding more raw strength to his solid frame. The team's running back and new star receiver were larger and very skilled, too. This team had a legitimate shot at greatness and everyone in town was buzzing about it.

This working class neighborhood hadn't had anything happy to unite them and give them hope in a long time. For years now, young men from South Philly had been leaving as eager volunteers or less joyfully as those complying with the draft, and far too few of them had returned—at least not in ways that could be truly celebrated. An overwhelming grey cloud hung over the community. Most people refrained from saying what was worrying them, but nearly all of them realized that playing sports and having fun were short-term goals for the children of their community. All too soon, many of those boys running up and down the field in glorious celebration of the latest victory would be leaving home in fatigues and flying halfway around the world to serve their country and demonstrate bravery far beyond what was required to beat the cross-town rivals on a football field. This patriotic town remained staunch in its support for its country, but the strain of losing so many so young was definitely taking its toll. Having a football team with the chance to really achieve something positive was a balm, if not a cure, for the town's worries.

Joe Booth remained the popular star quarterback his senior year, but what most people didn't realize was that he worked hard for his successes. He spent hours studying into the night after practice to keep his grades up, and he was the first at practice and in the weight room and the last to leave. In between studying and practice, he worked at his uncle's barbershop and, in the summers, he spent months harvesting crops on his other uncle's farm. He never missed Mass, and he mowed the lawn and handled other household chores. Unlike the kid sports stars in the movies or in wealthier suburbs whose families were financially comfortable enough to permit them a life of indulgence, Joe's hard-working family made sure that he knew the benefits of hard work and didn't spoil him. He had the old family car, but he was paying his father for it. Joe Booth was no stranger to earning his way.

At football practice every afternoon, Gabby and Jenny sat in the stands and did their homework. Jenny's parents had eventually caved to the requests from the charming upperclassman and allowed their daughter to date him. The kids had handled the relationship well and given their parents no reason to worry. They tended to spend most of their time with friends or at one home or the other—determined to be the "good" kids their parents expected them to be.

Joe couldn't complain that "his girl" sat there grinning her approval at him from the stands—or that he got to drive her home after practice. Sometimes they did homework together. Joe was impressed with how smart Jenny was, and, even though she was two years younger, he was grateful for the times she was able to help him with his math homework. He tried to return the favor by reading her papers over and helping her with history class. His father's love of history had provided him with a firm understanding of civilizations, governments, and politics, and he shared some of that knowledge with Jenny when she struggled to see the point of learning about "boring old" world history when there was a war going on that generated more compelling, more terrifying stories than those in their history books. He explained how learning about the past would help our country avoid past mistakes. Neither of them talked about the fact that some people were calling the current war one.

Their relationship had been close from the start. Joe knew that Jenny hadn't dated before, and, being the gentleman his father had raised him to be, he was determined to treat her with respect and affection—to show her how dating should be. Listening to her and supporting her no matter what she tried, Joe was the consummate boyfriend. Not only was he there for her, he also never failed to open doors for her or to offer her his jacket or to do other chivalrous things for her. Girls by the dozens watched with undisguised jealousy as he doted on the quiet young girl who had been lucky enough to snag his heart. But Joe was so smitten with Jenny that he didn't even notice.

His broad smile lit up his chiseled face whenever he saw her, and the tenderness and respect with which he always greeted her were truly swoon-worthy. He made a habit of leaving single long-stemmed roses in her locker and spent most of his extra money taking her out or buying things for her. But what she loved even more was that he wrote poems to her late at night in his room. She loved them and read and re-read them often. Sometimes she teased him that she was going to publish them in the school paper or show them to his teammates. Cheeks burning, he'd tickle her until she promised that his romantic side was their secret, and she often rewarded him with kisses to seal the promise that she wouldn't let everyone know what a softy he really was.

Another thing Joe did to show Jenny how much he loved her was to make sure not to monopolize all of her time. He realized that her friendships with Gabby and Ronnie were important to her, and he encouraged her to spend time with her friends. It gave him time to hang out with the guys and do his own thing, too. For her part, Jenny's best friend Gabby appreciated the gesture and his offering of it. He was fairly certain that Ronnie did not.

The two boys had arranged for a tentative yet unspoken truce in order to keep Jenny happy. Joe dialed back the affection whenever Ronnie was around, and he tried to defer to him at times—hoping the guy would cut him some slack in return.

So far, Ronnie was the only one who wasn't over the moon about the fact that he was dating Jenny. For the life of him, Joe didn't understand it. He'd never done anything except dote on Jenny and make it clear that he'd never hurt her. But Ronnie was openly hostile to him—when Jenny wasn't watching. Joe could only conclude the Ron carried a torch for his girlfriend. But out of respect for her, he didn't call him out about it. He put up with the guy's crankiness toward him and was rewarded with secret kisses and thank you's from Jenny—making it far worth the little effort required.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

The longer they dated, the more in love with Jennifer Joe had fallen. Now an older and wiser sophomore, Jennifer had blossomed into a confident young woman and having Joe by her side had given her happiness and a level of popularity she'd never anticipated. She didn't really care about that too much; she was simply wild about Joe and focused her attention on him. In fact, she was so crazy about him that she barely noticed the way everyone on campus now deferred to her as campus royalty. She shrugged off the added attention and dedicated herself to her boyfriend. She knew better than to take Joe's affections for granted.

The longer the season wore on, the better Joe played and the greater intensity he brought to each football game. The closer it grew to Christmas vacation, the higher Joe's grades rose. He had determined to show colleges that he was serious about more than just playing ball—although he'd have gladly gone to school just to play ball if that had been an option.

Everything was coming together the way it should have—the way it was meant to be. In the final game of the regular season, the Eagles played their cross-town rivals. The friction between the two schools was legendary, and the Warriors wanted nothing more than to spoil the Eagles' hopes for an undefeated season. Joe had sent Jenny flowers at school that day to make it up to her for practically ignoring her for the past two weeks even though she'd sworn that she understood why he'd had to stay away. He'd put in extra hours practicing and going over the playbook. The Eagles were heavily favored, but he wasn't taking anything for granted. He was going to do whatever he could to increase the chances that his team would win.

The hard work paid off. By halftime, the Eagles were up 24-7. Joe came out after halftime pumped up and determined to rev up the crowd and pump up his teammates. And by leading them down the field for another score in the first two minutes, he accomplished just that.

The fans were roaring even more loudly after the defense had forced the other team to fumble. The Eagles had the ball back and were now practically assured of a victory. One more score would put the game out of reach. Not at all cowed by the pressure mounting, Joe called a play and moved to execute it. He realized as he uttered the sounds to set the play into action that things seemed to be moving almost in slow motion. He was fully engaged, but he could see the stadium's bright lights and hear the roar of crowd cheering him on more acutely than he normally could. Faking a handoff, he turned around and sprinted back a few yards. He turned, immediately seeing his star receiver wide open down the field. As he reared back to fire the ball directly at his target, he felt the impact of two defenders crashing into him from behind from opposite directions. He felt the typical sting of a particularly nasty tackle but then the pain in his head erupted into a chain reaction of explosions of white hot, searing pain. And after his body crumpled awkwardly and fell to the turf with a thud and the other defenders piled atop him mercilessly, the entire world went black.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

Present day

At precisely 7 p.m., Seeley Booth arrived at the retirement center to pick his grandfather up and take him out to eat. After embracing warmly, the two men strode out to Booth's waiting SUV. On the ride to Hank's favorite restaurant, they caught up on the typical little things… Parker… Booth's work… Hank's activities (at least the ones those two felt comfortable discussing)—the usual.

The longer the pair avoided the conversation they were supposed to have that evening, the more tension filled the air between them. After their meal was complete and Booth had finished his second piece of pie while still stalling, he started tapping the pads of his fingers on the tabletop nervously as he tried to figure out a smooth way to ease into the conversation. Frustrated watching his grandson fidget anxiously for several minutes, Hank finally told him just to spit out the news.

"There's no easy way to tell you this," Booth said as he considered whether to avoid the conversation with his grandfather. He was a grown man, but fessing up to sin to his grandfather still made him feel about twelve years old.

"You were never good at lying, son. Just tell me what's eating you," Hank said.

"Actually, this is good news. You see, Pops… I'm going to be a dad… again."

Booth watched the realization dawn on his grandfather. He knew that the man would need time to warm up to the idea, but the concern on the man's face worried him.

"Really? I… uh… I didn't think that Hannah would be the type to put down roots… have kids. But if you're happy, son, I'll be happy for you."

"Uh…," Booth was now regretting that he'd avoided his grandfather for so long. He'd thought it wise to avoid letting the man see him struggle with the breakup and the bitterness he'd felt for long after it. But now it was only going to make it seem as if he'd just been bed-hopping when what had happened to him recently was the best thing that had happened in his entire life. He needed to do this justice. Pops had to understand that he wasn't just whoring around.

He jumped right in and didn't give his grandfather a chance to interrupt him, "Hannah and I broke up a few months ago, Pops. It wasn't pretty. I proposed. She said no. She left. Well, to be honest, I told her to leave."

"That's no way to start a family, son."

"No… I loved her, Pops. I _wanted_ to have a family with her. Or I thought I did. But it's not her, Pops."

"You've already met someone else and gotten her in the family way? I thought we raised you better than that."

"It's more complicated than that, Pops, but this is real. When Hannah left, I hit bottom. I was angry. I drank too much. I realized that there was something about me that was ruining all of my relationships. Bones…."

"I bet she's lecturing you on birth control about now. Has she smacked you around for this yet? I can't imagine Temperance approves of you leaping into another relationship so quickly."

"Well, you see, Pops…," Booth said, taking a deep breath and determining to spit the news out quickly to get it over with, "it's Bones I'm in a relationship with now. Bones… Temperance… She's the one I'm having a baby with."

Booth watched as the man's face showed surprise… then shock… then glimmers of the happiness he'd hoped he'd see there. "Well it's about damned time. You and Temperance?" he paused, allowing the shock to settle in. "Temperance is pregnant?" he continued, still not quite believing those two had finally admitted what had been obvious to him the moment he'd met her, "Wonders never cease."

"Yeah… I know. Bones stood by me, Pops. I really love her. I have since the day I met her. Hannah… she was just a rebound. I tried to make it work, but it wouldn't have because I was always meant to end up with Bones. She… she's my best friend. She gets me. She loves me back—warts and all."

"Well, I tried to tell you that a year ago, son. Don't screw this up, ya hear? That Temperance is one fine lady. She's good for you. You have to be good to her… and make this last."

"I will. We're both in this, Pops."

"What happened? I've watched the way you look at her. I saw you avoid your feelings for her. What changed? How'd you get up the courage to ask her out?"

Booth smiled. His grandfather was such a romantic. And it felt good to have his support… to know that he was happy for them.

Booth's long pause told his grandfather that the kid had skipped more than a few steps in the proper way to court a woman. Hank narrowed his eyes at him, so Seeley spoke up, "You know I've been crazy about Bones forever. I'd thought about it lots of times but something always made me wait. I cared too much about her to rush things. But when a sniper from my Ranger days was picking people off… he tried to take me out, and he hit one of the squints. Bones and I were there. We tried to save him, but… we couldn't. Bones stayed at my apartment. Losing Vincent was tough on her. She came to me crying… And I held her. That's really all I had planned to do, Pops."

_Booth remembered holding Bones that night after she'd climbed into bed with him. He had hated the fact that she thought she was a bad person. He remembered how he'd been struck by such sympathy for her and by the fact that she was just so damned beautiful even when she was miserable and crying…. He recalled the way Bones had looked at him when he'd pulled back and stared into those gorgeous, troubled eyes of hers. _

_He'd whispered to her tenderly and brushed some stray hair back behind her ears. The tears filling her eyes spilled over afresh, and she had looked at him, begging him with her eyes to accept her… to give her evidence that she wasn't a monster… that Vincent hadn't been talking to her._

"_You're not a horrible person. You… Bones… You're the best… most honest… caring person I know." She leaned into him for comfort, mostly trying to avoid the way he was looking at her, but he pushed her back far enough away for her to have to face him again. "You're not a bad person. You comforted Vincent today when he was in pain and afraid… You took care of me… after Hannah… when I was sad… and angry… when I needed a friend-even when I hadn't been there for you. You're a good person, Bones. You're amazing."_

_She had shaken her head and tried to end the conversation, but he found a courage he'd been lacking for far too long. Rolling them over so that he could face her, he propped up on one elbow and held her gaze with an intense one of his own. "I won't let you beat yourself up, Bones. You're the first one to tell me that things aren't my fault when they aren't. Now you have to listen to me. This wasn't your fault. I handed him the phone. Jacob pulled the trigger. You tried to help. This wasn't your fault." _

"_It's just such a waste of a brilliant mind and a good person…," she sniffled._

"_It is."_

"_And you really can keep your faith when your God allows cruel, heartless, pointless things like this happen?"_

"_It's not always easy, but yeah."_

"_How? I want that kind of comfort. I want to be convinced that things happen for a reason… a good reason… for the right reasons."_

"_Not everything does, but some things do, Bones. You and I made it. We're still here. Still close. Against the odds. Even though we're too different and things… people… have come between us. Our friendship. The way you stick with me… the way I want to be there for you. That's indestructible. It gives me faith. Because it shouldn't be this way. It should still be too hard. I shouldn't still…." He froze, realizing what he'd been on the verge of saying and panicking for one last fragile moment. Her eyes went wide and she stared at him expectantly—fear and that ever-present curiosity evident on her face._

"_Booth…," she whispered, the tension around her eyes giving way to something softer, tender and relaxed. Seeing her look at him that way, with that much trust and a hint of something more was his undoing. He dove in headfirst, now committed to confessing the secrets of his heart to her more fully._

"_I love you, Bones," he whispered, daring to reach out and touch her cheek tenderly. His breath on hold, he waited, completely uncertain about what her reaction to him would be. _

_She simply stared at him. He started talking hoping it would slow his wildly beating heart enough so that he might hear whatever she'd say to him._

"_I could have lost you today. That could have been you or me… bleeding out on the floor. I… I want to do this… be the one to hold you when you're sad… celebrate with you when you're happy… This… this is the way this is supposed to be, Bones. I still want…."_

"_Us?" she responded, her voice trembling._

_He gazed at her and nodded slightly, raw need for her overwhelming him. He made a conscious decision to lift the veil he'd used so often to hide his feelings for her. Gazing at her adoringly, he told her wordlessly how much he cared. How much he wanted her to understand his feelings for her and how real they were. _

"_You, Bones. I want you. And I'm just going to wait and have faith that I can be the guy you want… the one you need… the one you can have faith in."_

"_You love me?" she whispered, her mind still repeating that phrase over and over again as she tried to process the fact that she might not have missed her chance… that it might not be too late for her… for them._

"_So much. And seeing you like this… in so much pain…."_

_He had been so intent on talking to her that he missed it. It wasn't until after he felt the rush of realizing that she was kissing him that it hit him that they were kissing… in his bed… really kissing…._

_The attraction so long held at bay was unleashed, and they literally devoured one another. She rolled atop him, kissing him fervently and as if she needed intimate contact with him to survive. Half-reacting, half-pursuing her, he returned her advances and added a few skilled maneuvers of his own._

_It was as if the universe had exploded into a white-hot ball of fire and they were the center of that phenomenon. He felt certain that even Bones couldn't have found an adequate way to describe what happened between them that night. At times urgent and purely physical and at others, tender and romantic, the would-be lovers leapt over the cavern that had_ _separated them too long from what they both wanted more than anything else. It was exhilarating. It was mind-blowing. It was the way things were supposed to be. It was fate and he wouldn't listen to Bones when she said it wasn't—not anymore._

_Still, one final flash of reason had hit Booth before they took that final step that would forever change their partnership._

"_Bones… Whoa… Mmm… Hang on a second, okay?" he managed to mutter as she continued to do things that were driving him wild._

_Breathless and more beautiful than he could have imagined, she pulled back to gaze up at him from where he hovered above her._

"_Some people… after they lose someone they love… they… you know… Sex is how they deal with the loss…."_

"_And you're worried that this is just me… trying to cope with losing Vincent?"_

_He nodded and flopped onto his side beside her, unable to hide his hopes that he was wrong about her motivation._

_She rolled to face him, her countenance shifting to one of logic and reason instead of one of a woman who had relished being thoroughly kissed and loving it, "You may be right. Losing Vincent might have been the impetus that started this… brought us into closer proximity… given us an acutely painful shared experience upon which to bond… made both of us face our vulnerability and our mortality," she began, watching the sadness start to creep into his expression upon hearing her voice of reason about things._

"_But," she said, grasping his hand and placing it delicately over her wildly pumping heart and holding it there for emphasis, "this… what's between us, it's ours," she said with a smile that shot straight through him. She watched the reality dawn on him slowly, widening his smile as it did so._

"_You're ready for this?" he asked, trailing a finger down the edge of her jawline and staring at her with the wonder she always inspired in him._

"_This," she whispered seductively, running her hands over his well-muscled chest, "I've been ready for this since that night we first drank tequila…." She kissed him urgently, reigniting the spark between them._

_If it hadn't been Bones… if this had been less important… there's no way he could have done anything else but respond to the offer she was making. He was a man of principles and honor, but he was very much a man. But this was Bones. Nothing was more important. He couldn't just let go… not without knowing. "This can't be just sex, Bones," he said, pulling back and lowering his forehead onto hers. "You mean more."_

"_Everything between us means more than I ever imagined it could. Make love to me, Booth," she whispered as he leaned forward and began doing just that._

"Earth to Shrimp," Hank said with a grin. Clearly flustered by his vivid memories, Seeley cleared his throat and tried to focus on the present.

"From the look on your face, I'm pretty sure that you didn't take advantage of the lady. You didn't, did you?" Hank demanded.

"Of course not. We just finally faced our feelings. I told her that night that I loved her, Pops. And I've told her ten times a day since. It's the real thing. I love her. I need her. She…."

"She's the one, son. Isn't she?"

"Yeah," Booth grinned at his grandfather. "She is."

Hank sat back and considered this huge announcement afresh before continuing, "You proposing?"

"Bones won't budge. Still doesn't believe in marriage. But she knows that I'm ready to propose if she changes her mind—or that I'll say yes if she asks me to marry her."

"Sounds really weird and unconventional."

"We've always been weird and unconventional. But it's the real deal."

"I believe you. And I'm happy for you, Shrimp. But I'm not so sure that it's good to have Parker see you having another kid outside a marriage."

"What do you want me to do, Pops? Can you imagine any way that I could make her marry me? I'm not my father; I'm not going to bully her into anything. Besides…, I know firsthand that just because two parents are married doesn't automatically mean that's what's best for the kids."

"Don't use that tone of voice with me, son. I…." Hank trailed off, guilt ramming him from all directions.

"Look, Pops… I don't blame you. It was a different time. You were trying to protect them. That's what you've always done… protect them… protect us. I know your heart was in the right place."

Hank thought about confessing how much he feared he'd made mistakes in the past—ones that had cost his grandsons dearly. He considered talking to Booth about what had happened and trying to tell him how things could have and should have been so different. But this was the closest they'd ever come to having that conversation, and he realized that talking about those times now would be just a way to ease his own conscience. The boy was moving forward and finally on the right path. That's all that mattered. "And your heart is in the right place now? You're gonna stick around and make this work with Temperance?"

"I am… We are. Bones… We're happy. We can do this."

Both men fell silent for a long moment.

Booth finally spoke up and let his grandfather know what was still nagging him. He struggled not to sound like a little kid who would give anything to get the approval of the grandfather he loved more than anyone else, "It would be nice if we… you know… had your blessing."

Hank looked up, tears rimming his eyes. For a brief moment, Booth worried that he wasn't going to give it to them.

But when Pops finally spoke, he revealed the kind of emotion men of his generation tried to keep to themselves, "You never had to ask for that, son," he said, sniffing hard to hide the tears that were threatening to fall. "Be happy. Love that woman the best you can. She's the only one who's ever been good enough for you. You'll be wonderful parents."

Hank etched the grin on his grandson's face into his memory for keeps, "Thanks, Pops. I will. Knowing you're in our corner means a lot," Booth said honestly.

"I'd never be anywhere else," Hank replied.


	4. Chapter 4

_**[A/N: I had no idea when I started writing this story that I'd get so busy that I wouldn't have time to write. So very sorry for the lengthy delay. Really didn't mean to disappear mid-story. Hope this is worthy of the wait. Not sure when I'll finish the next chapter, but my brain won't let this story go, so I hope to keep working on it!**_

_**I do very much appreciate the time you've invested reading here. Thanks for your questions and your comments. Keep them coming!]**_

Chapter 3: Being a Man Means Rolling with the Punches

"_**Love and fear. Everything the father of a family says must inspire one or the other." -Joseph Joubert**_

Joe didn't remember much of what happened that night he was injured or even the next day, but he would be haunted by the absence of those memories for the rest of his life. Even though Joe had no memories of that night, nobody else who had been there would ever forget what they'd seen that night or what had happened afterward. With the exuberant crowds of people in the stands suddenly deathly quiet—as silent as if there had been nobody there to observe the quarterback's injury at all, the medical staff had loaded his limp, unresponsive body onto a stretcher and into the waiting ambulance for the trip across town.

Everything seemed to be frozen in time. Hardly anyone aside from those too frightened to do anything but follow the flashing lights and blaring siren moved at all for a long moment. Terrified, Hank and Martha had rushed from the stands and straight to their car, a teary-eyed Maggie catching up with them and running with them as they made their way frantically to follow the ambulance to the hospital, praying harder with every step they took.

Jennifer and Gabby had fallen silent the moment Joe had hit the ground looking as if he had to be badly injured. Both girls had then looked on in horror as players piled roughly upon him. Tears falling instantly, a grief-stricken Jenny had made her way down from the stands with her friend. She was so distraught and out of it that she didn't even remember her parents showing up and leading her out to their car. She didn't hear the words of encouragement they whispered. She couldn't feel anything at all—it was as if she were hollowed out inside. She felt cold and empty. But even her own numbness and fear wouldn't really register with her. Not right then. She couldn't think of anything but Joe and how hurt he might be. She had to get to him. She had to be there for him.

The abrupt turn of events in the game had been so earth-shattering that the officials and the opposing team gave the Eagles' coaches a few minutes to pull themselves and their stunned team back together. Anyone who knew anything about football realized that this team had just suffered a devastating loss at the worst of times. One of the assistant coaches had left to ride in the ambulance with Joe, but the remaining crew slowly pulled their team together and rallied them to fight for their fallen leader. One of the coaches focused all of his attention on trying to shake the stunned backup quarterback—the one who'd only thrown passes during practice—into being able to walk out onto that field with the weight of the playoff game suddenly hoisted upon his shoulders.

The Eagles still had the ball. Joe's body had been broken badly, but even though his body had failed him, he still hadn't fumbled. Miraculously, he'd tucked the ball down and landed upon it, saving his team from even further devastation. He'd made a painful sacrifice, but even in so doing, he'd done what he could to help his team.

Joe's friend Craig swallowed his own fear and his worry for his best friend and pulled the team into a tight huddle. He knew that it was up to him to make sure that they didn't fall apart now. It's what Joe would have done. Joe had given everything he had to bring them this far. They all owed him the same—they had to fight with everything in them to bring this one home.

Craig looked directly at the new young quarterback and told him to throw the ball to him whether he was open or not. Then he looked his teammates in the eye one by one. "This one's for Joe. We're winning this game for him, dammit!" And then, with a passion and determination appropriate for their fallen comrade, the team yelled three rounds of repeating, "Who's this for? Joe! Who are we fighting for? Joe! Who are we gonna win for? Joe!" before breaking the huddle.

Hearing the team chant inspired the crowd back into action. The crowd started cheering "Win it for Joe! Win it for Joe!" It was the kind of scene you'd see in a movie. The kind that made all who saw it-even the people who had no clue about sports—cry as if it were their favorite pastime.

On the wings of the crowd's chant and in fear of letting everyone down, the stand-in quarterback croaked out the call for play and set it in motion. Not even breathing, he took a few steps back quickly and lofted his first slightly wobbly pass toward Craig. The crowd fell silent again instantly, nobody making a sound or able to breathe—least of all the young man who'd thrown the ball. Seeing the ball headed his direction, Craig leapt farther than his body should have been able to take him. Outreaching the defender, he pulled down the reception cleanly and somehow managed to remain on his feet. Then he ran as fast as he could, eventually falling into the end zone to score what would be the game's winning touchdown. Cheering wildly and continuing with "Win it for Joe!" the crowd celebrated.

The Eagles' defense held their opponents to only one more touchdown and the offense ran the ball conservatively and took time off the clock. Eventually, the buzzer sounded, signaling that the Eagles won the game. The victory had come at a large price, however, and nearly everyone's thoughts returned instantly toward the hospital where their hero lay wounded.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

After close examination, the doctors determined the next day that Joe had suffered a very serious concussion-one that the doctors said meant the end of his football career. Risking a repeat of that injury would mean a strong likelihood of brain damage—very possibly the irreparable kind. Joe's leg had also been badly broken, and he required surgery to set the break before they put him in a full-length leg cast. He spent a week in traction in the hospital, medicated heavily as much for his emotional well-being as to give his body time to heal.

He was still pretty much out of it the following Friday night when his team lost its next game in the first round of the playoffs. They had all tried their best and played hard, but the emotional toll of losing their leader combined with the fact that the new quarterback caved under the immense pressure of learning to play during the playoffs had just been too much for them.

Joe never even considered blaming his teammates for losing their chance at their dream. He placed all the blame for their untimely loss on his own shoulders. He'd let them down. They'd needed him and he hadn't come through for them. The weight of that reality bore down on him with more intensity than the player who'd originally caused his injury had. Most of the time, it was hard for Joe to breathe, impossible for him to imagine how he'd ever put the disappointment behind him.

Predictably, Joe initially balked at the news that his football career was over. He'd insisted that his leg would heal and he'd be back in top shape before colleges finished recruiting. He'd be able to show that his team had won with him and lost when he'd gotten hurt—showing that he was integral to their success. He ignored the warnings of the doctors and his parents. He didn't want to face the reality that his sports career had been cut far too short.

Crowds of students and teachers and coaches and players and neighbors and customers from his father's and his uncle's stores and from his church sent cards and flowers and tried to visit. Joe's parents interacted with most of them, apologizing but saying that Joe just needed time to cope with his injuries. Joe spent some time with Craig and a few other guys, but those visits now were awkward. Although they were close friends, their original bond had been sports and with Joe not being able to talk about that and the guys trying desperately to talk about other subjects they'd never focused on for long, the visits proved more painful than cathartic.

Although he'd endured more visits from her than from anyone else except his family, Joe had also pushed Jenny away. Seeing her reminded him of all he'd had, all he'd been, and thinking about that hurt too much. Despite his sometimes hostile greetings, Jenny had come faithfully to the hospital daily and to his house once he'd been sent home. When he'd let her in at all, she brought him cards, read his poems back to him even when he pretended to be sleeping, and held his hand and told him that she was there for him and would do whatever he needed. Biting back tears, she bravely stood beside him even when he resented her for being there. With her presence and the way she ignored his brush offs, she told him that she was immovable in his life and that she wasn't going to let him push her away. It wasn't easy, but she wore him down and made it clear that he might have lost many things, but she wasn't among them.

After he got past the initial frustration, he admitted to himself in quiet moments that her presence had been the thing that had most helped him survive that dark time. She was the constant his faith no longer was, the help he did not want from others, the love he could barely remember feeling for anyone, the life he could hardly remember wanting to live. He made a vow to himself to make it up to her and to be the kind of guy she deserved—even if he wasn't sure how to turn himself into that guy without sports in the picture.

Although it was clearly temporary, Joe hated being an invalid. He'd never had to let other people do things for him. He felt his manhood assaulted every time someone else had to help him with simple tasks he should have been able to do himself. Feeling vulnerable and unhappy, he had turned his friends away after their first few visits, too. Seeing them whole and happy and still able to play was painful for him. He'd never have wished this upon anyone—especially not any of them, but they were all too visible a reminder of what he'd had and lost. He just couldn't face them and pretend that everything was okay. Everything wasn't okay. He thought it probably never would be again. He wasn't mopey and didn't feel sorry for himself. He was just mad at the world and the hand fate or God or simple rotten luck had dealt him.

A few weeks after he'd been allowed to go home, Joe went back to school. He'd stalled until his doctors had told his parents he'd need a psychologist's excuse to miss any more school. Well, his body had been broken, but Joe had said there was no way in hell he was letting someone poke around in his brain. He'd even said 'hell' in front of his mother. She'd flinched but accepted him at his word. He was too miserable even to care that he'd disappointed her by using foul language.

Secretly, Joe knew that any shrink worth his salt would have seen right through him into the blackness and completeness of his despair. He wasn't ready to face anyone who knew the truth of his isolation and pain. He wasn't even able to face them himself.

When he had finally agreed to go back to school, doing so had been humiliating. His parents or Craig had to drive him, and he hated the scene that always unfolded as he had to be helped out of the car and into a wheelchair, or later, onto crutches. He dealt with the whispers as he made his way down the crowded hallway by ignoring them for the most part. He had a more difficult time ignoring the visible efforts of those who had never been his close friends trying to "help" him or to console him about his injuries. Maggie, Jenny, and Craig ran interference for him often, and he hoped they knew how much that meant. He thought about telling them, but he felt tears welling up when he thought about the right words to say and opted not to say anything at all to them. He might be a broken man, but he sure wasn't going to go around crying about everything.

Joe had good days and dark days. It was a very long time before the good ones outnumbered the darker ones.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

Tiptoeing up the stairs and trying to keep Jared's sobbing muffled, Seeley felt more cowardly with every step he took. He was fourteen now, and he'd finally stood up to his father. Something different should have happened this time. He shouldn't still be slinking up the stairs to hide with his little brother while leaving his mother downstairs with the monster his father had become once again.

Something had to change. He was going to have to do something. This had to stop. Seeley had listened for too long to the sounds of fists connecting with the bones and the soft tissue of his mother's battered body. He'd listened to the horrible names his father called his mother. He'd hated the man inflicting the physical and emotional wounds on her more than he ever imagined possible. His father had done this for years—even before he'd understood what was happening. The accumulated damage and anger now left Seeley unable to sit back anymore. His mother might be accustomed to staying quiet and taking it, but he'd be damned if he would for much longer.

That night, Seeley had broken the routine in a way that should have told his father things were changing. He had actually confronted his father tonight and told him to leave. He'd moved quickly to stand in front of his mother—eager to take the beating neither of them deserved. He'd been terrified, but he supposed he'd built up a tolerance for being frightened out of his mind. He'd felt that way for years—every single time something set his father off. It was now part of him—an instinct, a normal reaction to an abnormal set of circumstances.

Only tonight, he'd tried to do something different. He was becoming a man, and in his mind, that meant he could no longer be content to cling to his mother and accept some of the blows that deflected off of her onto him. This time, unlike every time before, Seeley had ignored his mother's pleas, her demands that he leave and take Jared somewhere safe. He'd stared into the cold, dark eyes of his father and been prepared to take him on. He wasn't yet quite as big as his father, but they were now pretty evenly matched. Football and weightlifting were helping him fill out early, and he didn't mind the increase in size and strength one bit. He knew he'd probably end up on the short end of things, but at least he stood a fighting chance if he really tried to stand in his father's way. He'd give the man a fair fight for once. He was pretty sure he was angry enough to at least cause the man some pain, hopefully lots of it.

His mother had simply become far too willing to just take what his old man dished out. His father had beaten the fight out of her years before. Seeley ached with the knowledge that she'd learned how long to push back and when to just lie there and let the man use her as a punching bag.

Seeley hated the way that her eyes wouldn't quite meet his for weeks after such an incident. He hated the guilt and the worry he saw there. But what he hated even more was her acceptance of the situation and the way that she became almost silent and subservient to her husband after he manhandled her. After Joe hurt her, she'd be patient and kind and almost pitiful in the way that she accommodated the man. For all too brief a time, his father would be overly nice to all of them for a while, and she seemed to find hope in that falsehood. She pretended to believe it. Hell, maybe she really did believe it. There had been a day when these violent events were seldom and seemed to be exceptions to the norm. But Seeley knew now that that time was no longer. This was full on abuse and showed no signs of stopping and all signs of heading toward the most horrible of endings. Maybe his mother really was a fool for the man. Maybe she couldn't allow herself to believe that her life had turned into a miserable, violent, bad made-for-TV movie.

Seeley knew that his mother was angry and scared. And he also knew that she put up with the man—that she willingly took his crap and allowed him to humiliate her—to protect him and his brother. Yet accepting her sacrifice was becoming too difficult. It was now requiring him to put on the same mask of acceptance and forgiveness that she'd worn far too long. He just wasn't able to stomach that. Not anymore.

So, for the first time ever, Seeley had tried to intervene. He could no longer pretend to be the crying kid who begged his dad to stop and who promised he'd be a better boy. He couldn't be the child who apologized profusely and asked his father to watch the baseball game with him to distract him from his angry outburst. Tonight, when he'd walked in and found his father pounding his fist into his mother's stomach, Seeley had become a man.

Without even realizing he'd yelled, he'd roared at his father so loudly that Joe had actually stopped hitting his mother. Scurrying out of reach the way she'd practiced over the years, Jenny had crossed the room and been shocked to see her son move quickly to stand bravely in front of her. Instantly grabbing her son's flexed biceps and pulling him toward the back door, she pled with him to stand down. The thought of what might happen if the two actually fought was staggering. She couldn't allow Seeley to face such a risk. She had to get him out of there. Furious and barely controlling his rage, Seeley had ignored her, yanking his arm free so that he could face his father.

The eerie silence during their stare down was noisier than a school cafeteria or a crowd at a football game. Exchanging thoughts without saying a word, the son had given his father notice that things had to change, and the man had told his son that he wasn't afraid of him one bit. Neither man had moved a muscle; if one had the collision that would have ensued might have been the end of one or both of them. Realizing the danger and determined to do something about it, Jenny had whispered frantically to Seeley to beg him to walk away.

He'd eventually given in and listened to his mother. He'd turned away and left her there—defenseless and now willing to take whatever Joe threw at her. He'd felt cowardly and despised himself for his inaction. But he'd always had trouble saying 'no' to his mother, and part of him realized that letting her control what he did gave her some control over something—otherwise she wouldn't have had control over anything at all except her decision to stay and suffer great pain for it.

He'd hated that he hadn't finally done something to make a difference—to stop the cycle that seemed endless these days. But it had been his mother's tearful plea that had been his undoing. When she'd begged him, when she'd whispered that he'd cause more harm by intervening, when she'd pled with him to take Jared upstairs to safety—he'd acquiesced. It seemed in that moment that all his mother had left was his undying devotion. He hadn't been able to rip that away from her, too.

His gut rolled and churned as he listened to the now-muffled sounds of his father taking his anger out on his mother once again. He lie there sleepless for hours, finally breathing when he heard the back door slam and his father stomp out into the darkness. He thought about getting up and checking on his mother, but before he could do so, she opened the door and crack and told him that she was fine—that she was going to bed. Something in her expression told him she was proud of him and that he'd been brave. Knowing she felt that way when he'd let her down again was humiliating. Tears burning their way down his cheeks, he lay there hating the situation and blaming himself for letting it continue.

As he'd done so many times before, Seeley blamed himself for being just as spineless and accepting of the situation as his mother. But, fueled by the memory of the way his father had looked at him and convinced that he was now ready to change things for good, he stayed up all night long strategizing and developing a plan for what he'd do the next time this happened—knowing with certainty that "next time" wasn't going to be too far away.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

The situation had been almost eerie in its predictability, but Seeley couldn't stop himself from doing anything he'd done. When he'd found the senior wrestler manhandling his girlfriend under the bleachers after school one day a few weeks later, he'd simply snapped.

He didn't remember physically separating the pair and telling the girl to leave.

He didn't remember tossing his jacket over her shoulders to help cover her torn clothing and her wounds.

He didn't remember whirling and calling the jerk every terrible name he'd ever heard.

He didn't remember the guy's obnoxious smirk or his reference to the fact that his girlfriend "liked it" when he roughed her up.

He didn't remember knocking the guy to the ground or pummeling him until they were both bleeding and the guy's face was hardly recognizable.

He didn't remember deciding on purpose to hit him where it would show—where everyone would see what had happened.

He didn't feel his friends prying him off or the coach throwing him into his office.

He didn't hear the principal's words or even the coach's defense of his actions.

He didn't feel humiliated or worried or sad or scared.

He didn't even feel the ache he should have felt from his own injuries.

He didn't see the scenery passing by as the coach drove him home.

He didn't see the understanding dawning in his mother's eyes as she heard what had happened.

He didn't hear her crying as the coach told her he'd been suspended from school for fighting.

He didn't see the pain in her face as she turned to look at him after the coach had left.

He didn't feel guilt or sadness or regret or anything.

Something deep within the young man had snapped and was beyond repair. He didn't care that he'd been suspended. He didn't care that he'd miss the next game. He didn't care that his hand was swelling up and might even be broken. All he could think or feel or do or consider was that he was not going to allow the unfair circle of violence to continue—not now, not ever again.

With an almost sinister sense of foreboding, he lay on his bed that night and kept his mind clear. His father would come home, hear the news, and lose his temper. Only this time, the outcome would be different. This time, he was ready to stand up to the man and fight back.

HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH….HHH

"Booth, please stop. Your constant hovering is becoming annoying—not merely distracting," Temperance insisted as she nudged her boyfriend out of her personal space again.

"I just need to know that you're okay, Bones," a concerned Booth replied as he continued to scrutinize her shoulder.

"You are not qualified to determine whether my physical condition is satisfactory, Booth. You are not a doctor and have no formal medical training. I, however, can say that I do not feel pain or any physical discomfort. I am a credible source, and I assure you, that I am fine. I was not injured. You should stop worrying needlessly or you will develop medical problems of your own."

"Your shoulder has to hurt, Bones. I didn't mean to bump into you so hard with that box. There's a bruise. You're pregnant. I worry."

Temperance smiled and chuckled as she looked at her partner, "You realize that those things are not at all logically related."

Pulling her gently toward him, Booth smiled in return, "You're wrong, Bones. They're all related. I'm the common denominator. And I worry about you all the time—especially when I'm the reason that you're injured." He kissed her nose and pulled her into a hug, saying a prayer of gratitude that she really did seem okay.

Temperance embraced him and searched for words to ease his worry, reassure him that she was fine, "Booth, it was an accident. You have never knowingly hurt me. You can't be so hard on yourself about an accident."

He sat up against the headboard of the bed and pulled her body to his but didn't respond. Temperance gave him time to think and hoped she'd find the right response to console him. Not convinced that she would, she waited, hoping that he'd tell her something or give her a clue about how to respond to him.

"I love you, Bones," he whispered some time later.

Sitting up, she turned to face him, searching his face for clues that would help her ease his concerns. "I love you. But I do not feel irrationally concerned for your well-being. Does that mean that I don't love you as much as you love me?"

"No," he replied with a half-smile, kissing her forehead for reassurance.

"Tell me what's really wrong, Booth," she implored him.

Without realizing he was doing it, Booth distanced himself from her physically and looked anywhere but into her brilliantly curious eyes. She read the signs of stress and allowed him the space he needed.

"Remember the Schenfield case?" he finally asked her.

Temperance was disturbed by the reference to the case of the poor abused girl they'd recently help reunite with her loving parents and her stuffed bunny. "Of course, I do. That was a recent case, and it stirred deep emotions for both of us. I told you that I do not have a head injury, Booth. Why wouldn't I remember that case?"

"It's an expression, Bones. It's the way that non-geniuses shift the topic of conversation to a common reference point," he snipped without realizing it.

"I detect frustration in your tone. Am I being too literal?" she asked earnestly.

"A bit," he replied.

She looked over at him encouragingly, "Tell me what you meant… about the Schenfield case."

Booth sat for a long moment, his eyes stormy and his jaw twitching slightly as he considered whether to talk to her or just to avoid the topic once again. Glancing up into her brilliantly inquisitive eyes and finding more support than curiosity there, he found himself finally willing to risk revealing some of his deepest secrets.

"He wasn't ever held accountable," he half-whispered, half-grunted. Talking about this with anyone was just about the hardest thing he'd ever done.

"What? Booth, he is being prosecuted and will in all likelihood spend a significant proportion of his remaining life being incarcerated. As will his wife." But as she glanced up and noticed the sheer torment in her lover's expression, even Temperance understood without explanation. "You're speaking about your father," she divulged, saving him from having to voice his past problems.

"Yeah."

"You are not your father, Booth," she whispered. She kissed him lightly and then melded her body with his. She allowed him to pull her even closer, and then felt his heartbeat slow steadily as some of the tension drained from his taut body. She hoped she was helping. Seeing Booth tormented by his past reminded her just how deeply childhood wounds could cut.

"He never took responsibility," Booth confessed in a voice tinged with hurt, regret, and blazing anger. "It was as if he thought that the booze gave him a free pass. He wasn't the one hitting…," he paused as his voice wavered again, "beating… my mom… Jared… me."

She clung to him, realizing how fortunate she was to be the only person he'd ever spoken with about the abuse his family had suffered.

"I'm like him, Bones. I get angry and lose my temper. I can be intolerant and mean when I'm mad. I lose my temper and then… getting physical… it feels good."

"Booth…," she began, aching to stop him, ease his pain.

"No, Bones," he interrupted before continuing. "That temper, that angry loss of control… it's in me. He… he beat it into me when he was hitting my mom and Jared." He paused, and swallowed hard before speaking again, "I… I just don't want to be like him. I want to keep my temper in check… avoid losing control like that. And I want… I need to be held accountable for anything I ever do to hurt you… or our baby… or anyone else…."

"Okay," she whispered, the brevity of her response and her absolute support of him flooring him. She hugged him tightly, and his heart swelled with appreciation for the true friend he still had in her.

"That's why I can't rest. I can't relax knowing that I hurt your shoulder. I don't ever want to hurt you, Bones…, even when it's not on purpose."

She allowed him to hold her a few moments before breaking from their embrace. "I love you, Booth, and I know that you love me. I do not share your concern about the potential for you to be violently angry—not with me or with our child... or Parker… or anyone else who's not a criminal. But, I will, if you want me to, hold you accountable for any harm you inflict—purposefully or otherwise."

"You will?" he asked.

"I will," she said with a smile. Had they been making vows of more lifelong significance, he doubted he could have been any happier. He felt relieved and slightly unburdened for the first time since they'd confessed their love and decided to become lovers as well as partners.

"Thanks, Bones," he replied, "It means a lot to me that you will help me. This… not being like my dad… it's really important to me," his voice dropping slightly in that emotional way she found delightfully arousing.

As usual, Temperance didn't linger in the moment the way that most people would have, her genius mind was already several steps ahead of him. She knew he wanted to put these memories of that dark time away and not to dwell on them longer than necessary, and she knew just the way to distract him.

"Well, because you asked me to hold you accountable… there's actually more to my physical well-being than just the injury from the box," she confessed.

"Oh… God, Bones… are you okay?" he asked, his voice dripping with concern and with guilt and his eyes and hands roaming over her the way they had been earlier. He had smacked into her pretty hard, and he was convinced that she was downplaying the cut and the bruise just for his sake.

"I feel…," Temperance began, a wicked smirk on her face, "that there are a number of places on my body," she continue as she rolled onto her back and looked up at him, waiting for her implication to register. "Several places that should now benefit from your rapt attention and tender loving care."

Booth halted his search for injuries abruptly and turned to stare into her eyes. Seeing the suggestion there, one corner of his mouth shot up and then his whole face erupted into one of those devilish smiles that had always affected her physically.

"Teasing me already, Bones? See if I confess any more of my secrets to you," he teased back.

"Well, you set the precedent. Remember the time you…," he cut off her reminder with a searing kiss.

"Several places, huh?" he asked in a dangerously low voice as he slipped closer to her and started searching her body again, this time in a much more deliberately tempting way.

"Mhmmm…," she responded, already benefitting from his skilled touch.

"Well, I'm all about atoning for my sins…," he whispered as their lips met.

Quite a while later, the couple lie blissfully sated, her head in its now customary spot in the crook of his neck, and his hands still gently caressing her warm body.

"Booth?" she whispered, breaking the companionable silence filling the room and encapsulating the lovers.

"Yeah, Baby?" he husked, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. She squinted at him hard, so he offered another endearment, "Yes, Sweetheart." Content with the change, she placed her head upon his shoulder again.

"I think that I shall enjoy holding you accountable," she smiled as she spoke into his well-muscled chest.

"You will?" he replied with a similarly heady smile.

"You were rather generous and attentive in making love to me just now, and I find myself compelled to engender that behavioral response from you again soon."

"My rocking YOUR world was NOT a mere behavioral response," he scoffed with enthusiasm.

"You know that it is physically impossible to rock someone's world," she retorted quickly, "The Earth's mass…"

"Are you sure about that?" he threatened playfully, rolling atop her with the promise of doing what she'd sworn wasn't possible.

"I'm not sure it would be possible without some sort of violent force," she dared again to tease him.

"I know you can kick my ass if you need to, Bones," he confessed before grinning a smile too cocky not to forecast his thoughts about the inevitable. "But I also know that I have ways of making sure you don't remember how to do it."

"Is that a threat? Threats are unacceptable. I should…" she started to reprimand him but he cut her off.

"Not a threat, Bones. I promise you won't want to stop me."

"I…," she began, but then she moaned instead.

"Told you," he teased before rocking her world again.


	5. Chapter 5

_**[A/N: My sincere apologies for falling off the face of fanfiction for so long. Real life has had me busy-too busy to even read, much less write anything. Finally had a break and wanted to play around with this story some more. Thought that those few of you reading who have left such insightful comments didn't deserve to be left hanging... not any longer than you have been (if you even remember reading here before).**_

_**Thanks, as always, for any feedback or comments you wish to leave here. And thanks, again, for your extreme patience with the long breaks between chapters for this story.]**_

Chapter 4: Being a Man Means Dealing with Women When you Really Don't Know How

If humans could ignite sparks based solely on the attraction or the anger or the frustration flickering between them, Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan would have long since caught literal instead of metaphorical fire. However, unlike most of the time they'd spent sparking amorously at or in harmless conflict with one another, the source of the heat between them in this moment was sheer anger and frustration. Both of them had dug in and were sticking to their positions. Somehow, Booth had found himself being one-upped by his girlfriend in a way he had never anticipated and which royally pissed him off. Jaw clenched and teeth grinding, he stood there trying to be physically intimidating to the woman who seemed eerily unaffected by his size and his strength and his absolute fury. As angry with him as he was with her, she glared back at him, daring him to do anything to rile her up further. Neither seemed willing to back down.

The tension and the frustration between the lovers had been increasing steadily over the last four days. They were currently working the case of a likely serial killer—one they'd caught but whom they were still trying to connect to cases other than the one for which he'd been arrested. The man had a smart mouth which had angered Booth from the outset. His leers and inappropriate comments about his partner had served to make the FBI agent see red on the first day. That had not changed. Booth knew the man was trying to push his buttons, yet he seemed unable to put his anger with the man into the proper perspective. Ever since the creep had grabbed his partner and touched her-in ways that no man other than him should ever touch Bones again—he'd lost the capacity to control his animosity for the man. His partner had been relatively unphased by the man's unwelcomed contact. Temperance had responded to the man's unexpected groping as she typically did when anyone tried to touch her unexpectedly-wrenching his arm around and pinning him to the wall and then using her martial arts skills to disable him. After he slipped away from her and tried to resist, Booth had intervened and taken the man down and kept him that way, but the man had continued to lob inappropriate comments toward his partner. It had taken every ounce of Booth's self-control not to snap the man in half. He still found the idea rather appealing.

Reacting in opposite ways as so often was the case, the partners drove one another crazy. Predictably, Booth's partner shrugged off the encounter, insisted she was fine, and demanded that Booth stop dwelling on it. Just as predictably, he hovered and asked questions and drove her up a wall by fixating on the man and his creepy advances on her.

After they'd taken the jerk back to FBI headquarters, Sweets had developed a psychological profile on the pervert… quickly diagnosing the man's inappropriate fixation on insulting and physically overpowering pregnant women and his related fetish for such activities. Booth knew that finding out that man who'd groped Bones was sick enough to get turned on hurting and groping pregnant women should have helped him put the man into the category of "complete sicko" and dismiss him as the pervert he was. But his overprotectiveness for Bones and their baby had cancelled out all logic and reason. He simply wanted to strangle the man and couldn't stop fantasizing about it.

Sweets' work helped the team all but make connections to at least two additional cases, but they needed a confession or more evidence to wrap the cases up neatly enough to consider them closed. Days of turning up more evidence against him but falling short of the slam dunk Booth wanted had left the special agent more and more agitated. His frustration had skyrocketed earlier that very day when he had been interrogating the creep and his partner had burst in.

Catching her before she was able to reach the table, he'd turned her around and led her back out of the room so that they could discuss things privately.

"Booth, let go of my arm. I'm just here to assist," his partner insisted.

"Not this case, Bones. Not again. I'm not letting that pervert in the same room with you."

"I am perfectly able to take care of myself, Booth," she asserted, turning as if to return to the interrogation room.

"I can handle this one without you, Bones. I need to do this without you in there."

"You're being irrational and ridiculous, Booth. I'm your partner. We do this together."

"I don't care if it's irrational or ridiculous, Bones. I don't want you in there."

"Well, I think I should be there—to hold you accountable. You're likely to lose your temper and do something rash or unacceptable. I'll just be there to keep you in line."

"Bones….," he'd begun, but she'd already slipped into the room ahead of him. Sighing audibly, he followed her in.

The look on the creep's face set his blood boiling. "Back for more, Dr. Brennan?" he sneered. "I knew you wanted it…."

"Shut your trap, Franklin," Booth growled, standing beside his partner and glaring down at the man.

As one would have suspected, Booth's growing frustration and the man's increasing attraction to his partner led to an impasse. The partners left the room, and Booth punched a nearby wall hard enough to send staff rushing to their doorways to see what had rattled the photos on their walls.

"Booth…," Temperance cooed, hoping to calm him and help him see the only course of action that would work.

"Can't you just let this one go and head back to the lab, Bones?" he snapped, crossing his arms and glaring at her.

"I… You know that his fetish will render him more vulnerable if he's left alone with me. He's handcuffed, Booth. He won't be able to hurt me… the baby."

"Absolutely not, Temperance," Booth demanded. "I cannot stand the thought of you in the same room with him again. I can't let you go in there alone."

"I'll use my acting skills, Booth. I'm convinced this is the best, most efficient way to get him to confess to the three other murders."

"Bones, there are other ways…."

"You aren't usually this tentative. You would normally agree with me on this."

"This situation is anything but normal, Bones. I can't… No. It's not going to happen."

"You are not my superior, Booth. We are partners. You are not in a position to make this decision alone."

"I damn well defer to you in the lab, Bones. This is my turf. What I say goes."

And so the conversation continued as she marched down to his office, with him following on her heels trying to persuade her.

The pair continued to argue until Temperance pulled out her phone and began checking messages. She had practically tuned Booth out—after all, he had simply begun repeating the same irrational arguments over and over again. Listening to the same inane arguments wasn't rational, and she was determined to remain rational when her partner clearly could not.

Grimacing, Temperance typed a message quickly and hit send. She looked up at her partner, planning to gauge his reaction to the message she'd just sent.

Booth's phone rang a few minutes later. Seeing the display, he cleared his throat and picked up the receiver. " Yes, Sir… No, Sir… You see, Sir… Sir, Bones had no business… Well…, yes, Sir…."

Temperance watched as a mask of sheer anger slipped over her partner's face. She couldn't recall many times when she'd seen him this angry… she shivered realizing that he hadn't often been that furious with her. Looking anywhere but him, she listened as he consented to follow the Deputy Director's orders. She inhaled sharply as she heard Booth place the receiver down.

Without saying a word, Booth left the room and stormed down the hallway to the observation room. Accepting his stormy silence as consent, Temperance took a moment to compose herself and then entered the room to complete the task at hand.

Booth stood staring through the one-way glass as his partner enticed the suspect into revealing information. He ignored the pointed glances from Sweets—he wasn't discussing this with him now or ever. Booth also felt Ginny Shaw staring at him from the spot where she monitored the recording equipment. He knew that both Sweets and Shaw understood that Bones had taken over the interview, and it irked him to have them witnessing this fiasco. He watched as his partner stood and leaned across the table to draw nearer to the suspect and turn him on. He observed and heard the man respond the way his partner had intended. He waited just long enough for Bones to get some useful information out of the man and then left the room without a word.

Temperance nodded to the observation room and turned to leave. Ignoring the comments still coming from the murderer, she walked down to the observation room to greet her partner to tell him they could put the case behind them. When she realized he wasn't there, she glanced to Sweets and Agent Shaw to inquire about Booth's whereabouts.

"Dr. Brennan, Booth was visibly upset during the interview. This was difficult for him. Have you discussed his anger and frustration with this case?" Sweets asked.

"Discussing this case with Booth proved unproductive," Temperance replied. "I got authorization from the Deputy Director to proceed with the interview without Booth's assistance."

"You… Whoa… Seriously?" Sweets stammered as Agent Shaw tried to hide her horror and pretend she wasn't listening—both unsuccessfully.

"It was the obvious way to handle the obstacle," Temperance replied.

"You realize that Booth is much more angry with you than he is annoyed by the suspect, don't you?"

"Booth is easily annoyed. He will calm down."

"I'm not so sure, Dr. Brennan. Your calling in the Deputy Director here was the equivalent of… I don't know… Booth reporting publicly that you were wrong in identifying a set of remains—without discussing it with you."

"Don't be ridiculous, Dr. Sweets."

"I hope I'm wrong, Dr. Brennan, but I suspect that Booth will be angry with you for some time about this."

HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH…. HHH… HHH… HHH…

Temperance had concluded that Sweets had been right after she appealed to Booth in his office. Ignoring her attempts at conversation, her partner sat with his back ramrod straight, staring at the open case file before him. He refused to look up at her and generally avoided conversation with her. When she'd rounded his desk to draw nearer, Booth's angry voice had stopped her in her tracks, "Go back to the lab, Temperance. I am not talking about this with you now."

"Booth…," she began.

"Get the hell out, Bones. Either you leave, or I will."

Finally realizing the extent of his anger, she complied with his request.

HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH…. HHH… HHH… HHH…

When Sweets had knocked on Booth's door, he'd been turned away with an "Out!" from the special agent. Agent Shaw had been allowed in and worked with Booth occasionally during the afternoon, but she felt as much as heard the anger emanating from her superior. She avoided dealing with him more than absolutely necessary and felt fortunate that she'd avoided an angry verbal assault from him.

Near the end of the day, Agent Shaw had been planning to check in with Booth before leaving. As she'd turned the corner to head to his office, she'd seen him storm in-sweaty, clearly returning from the gym but not looking as if the workout had lowered his stress levels at all. He left the office abruptly afterwards. Worried but not brave enough to call out to him, she'd followed at a safe distance.

As she waited at a traffic light, Agent Shaw checked her email on her phone. Among the messages was a message from Dr. Brennan, asking her if Booth was still in the office. Uncertain about how to reply, she didn't respond.

Not sure what she was doing or why she was doing it-but doing it anyway, Agent Shaw followed Booth at a discreet distance. He was weaving in and out of traffic in a manner befitting an angry and frustrated man, but she didn't have much trouble tracking him. After 20 minutes in traffic, Agent Booth pulled over and parked on the street. He strode quickly to the door of the house and rang the bell and knocked impatiently on the door. A woman in a silk robe greeted him with a hug, offered him a glass of scotch, and closed the door behind them.

Agent Shaw swallowed hard. This didn't look good.

HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH…. HHH… HHH… HHH…

Jenny had been crying for days. At first, Joe had been really worried and upset along with her, but as time wore on, he became annoyed that she couldn't pull it together. What was the big deal? People joined the army every day—especially now that the draft was underway and not everyone had a choice in the matter. There was a war. Someone had to do the fighting. The fact that he wasn't on the list of people under consideration might have shortened his patience on the subject, but he didn't let himself think too long about that.

All of Joe's efforts to comfort Jenny had failed miserably. She seemed to want to do nothing except hang out with Gabby and Ronnie and cry when she wasn't with them. Ever since her pal Ronnie had told her he was leaving the following week for basic training, Ronnie had been all she talked about. She wavered between crying about his planned departure to reminiscing about their childhood memories to ranting about the fact that he had joined up. Joe wondered how Ronnie stood it. Just being around that many tears and so much drama was tough—knowing he was the cause of it? He couldn't imagine how smothering it would be. There was a shadow darkening Jenny's eyes day and night these days. Even when she smiled, it was there. This news had sidelined his girlfriend in a way that nothing else—not even his horrible injury-had. That stung more than a little bit.

Joe told himself that he wasn't jealous. Jenny and Ronnie were like family—they'd been friends for years. The boy was no real threat—although he did still seem to have a thing for Jenny. Fortunately, she was as clueless about it as she always had been. Still, it was hard to watch her hugging Ronnie and reaching out to touch him the way she'd previously reserved only for her boyfriend. Unable to stomach too much of that, Joe had finally learned to leave Jenny alone with her friends. His quiet, distant brooding wasn't earning him any points with his girlfriend, and the group of friends generally ignored him when they all got together anyway. Better for him to work or to spend time with the guys. He couldn't wait for this to be over.

The night before Ronnie's departure, he and Jenny and Gabby had stayed up all night. They'd eaten all of Ronnie's favorite foods and played games and talked about memories and tried to pretend that this might not be the last time they'd all be together. About two in the morning, Gabby fell asleep, leaving the pair time for some quiet conversation. They opted for a walk around the completely quiet, dark neighborhood.

"I hate that you're leaving," Jenny confessed.

"I know. I'm sorry," Ronnie said.

"We are almost finished with school, Ronnie. We were going to college together—the three of us."

"I know," he said.

"Why, Ronnie? Why did you have to do this? We had plans… plans to do all of this together."

He looked at her for a long moment and then took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow as they began walking again, "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Okay…?" Jenny asked, concern filling her voice.

"My dad is sick. He has cancer."

"Oh, Ronnie…," she said, stopping him and then reaching out to hold onto him tightly.

"He's okay now, but he won't be for long. When he can't do it anymore, I'll need to take over the garage to support my mom and my brothers and sisters. I'm going to have to learn to be a mechanic. Figured I'd at least get to see a little bit of the world while I do. I need this, Jenny. Otherwise, I'll be stuck here the rest of my life. I won't be able to go to college or decide what I want to do with my life. It's been decided already. This is my only time… my only shot at choosing what happens to me."

She hugged him tightly, aching for his predicament, proud of his bravery, impressed anew with his love and devotion to his family, hurting already that she wouldn't be able to hug him like this every day.

"Don't be made at me, Jen. I need this… I need to do something on my own. Or else I'll sit here and hate you all when you go off to school and leave town and do all those things we'd always planned together. I don't have time to wait until school's out. By then… soon…, I won't have any options."

"It's okay, Ronnie. It's actually brave and noble of you. I get it. And I won't tell… promise."

He turned to face her, floored by the love and affection he saw shining in her eyes. "You're my best friend, Jenny. I need to do this… go out on my own… become a man… do something of my own…. But leaving you and Gabs…," he glanced away to blink back the emotion in his expression. When he turned back to look at her, she felt the unexpected jolt of seeing how he really felt about her, "I… I love you, Cupcake," he said, pulling out the nickname he'd give her with they were eight years old. "I… I need you to be okay with this. Please don't be mad at me anymore."

Jenny's breath caught during his confession. She instantly told herself that he was just doing that—being her best friend. Yet, something had stirred in her at his words. The way he was looking at her… staring into her soul… The way she knew that he'd do anything she asked… that he would always be there for her… It made it even harder to let him go.

"You are part of my heart, Ronnie. I'll miss you so much. I'll pray for you… write to you every day. Please be careful over there." She melted into his waiting embrace. For what seemed like an eternity, the young pair held one another. But unlike the hundreds of times before when that had happened, both felt the heat that now flowed naturally between them. When she reacted by pausing and pulling away, Ronnie clamped down and held her close. He needed this… the memory of holding her the way he'd always wanted, the time to reassure her that he would do anything for her… even leave without making sure she knew how he felt. He'd said it… He'd told her he loved her dozens of times… but never the way he had tonight. He wasn't going to be a scumbag and even hint at asking her to leave Joe or cheat on him, but he had finally found the courage to be up front about his feelings for her—at least in a way that she'd have to remember. He needed a few moments to drink it all in… to preserve the memories… to soak up the essence of the only girl he'd ever loved.

When he released her, he saw an awareness in her eyes that scared him but made him realize that he'd probably lost his mind revealing his heart's deepest secret. "Ronnie," she whispered, gazing up at him—half-dazed, half frightened out of her mind. "Shhh….," he whispered, brushing hair back from her face and smiling down at her. "I…," she continued, but he placed a finger atop her lips, wishing more than anything that his lips were there instead. "You don't have to say anything. I know how you feel. And we'll write. I'll call if I can. You'll be busy with graduation and going off to college and having fun this summer. Promise me… promise me you'll do it all—-all of it-everything we've talked about for years."

"But it won't be the same without you here," she said through her tears.

"I will always be with you… You're part of my heart, too," he said, borrowing her words from earlier. Tears spilled over her cheeks. It crushed him. "I need to know that you forgive me… that you're not mad at me, Jenny."

"I'm not mad at you, Ronnie. I…," she paused, hoping he would know that she was being as truthful as circumstances would allow, "I love you, too." His heart literally stopped beating. There was no promise… no confession that her words meant what he had prayed for years that they might… nothing else more than her words, but he'd hold onto them forever. That phrase and her beautiful face as she'd said it to him… that's what would get him through the long, lonely nights in Vietnam. He'd always known that he couldn't have her… that she didn't love him as much as he loved her… but knowing that she really did care and did love him a little bit… It was more than he ever dreamed he'd get.

Jenny stepped closer and kissed his cheek. She lingered there for longer than anyone but a girlfriend should have dared, "Come back to me, Ronnie. Don't do anything stupid and reckless over there. Come back home safely, okay?"

Their faces were now inches apart as she looked up at him pleading with him to stay safe. He thought he'd die from the shock and the knowledge of how very much she was going to worry about him, how much she was already worried about him. His heart hammering, he tried to shrug off the seriousness of their conversation, "When have I ever been able to do anything except what you asked me, Jenny-Pie?" he asked with a broad false smile and a wink.

"Don't do that. Don't act like tomorrow you'll be showing up on my doorstep. This is a big deal, Ronnie. You could get hurt… Or…," her voice trailed off miserably. He pulled her back in for a hug. When he released her from his tight grip, she stayed there close to him… too close… dangerously close.

"I promise I'll be careful. I'll be back before you know it," he whispered. Looking down at her, he was painfully aware that he could give in and kiss her… show her how he felt. But he loved her, and he couldn't make her cheat… just knowing how she felt was enough.

So he was the one most surprised when she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, gently at first but then with a passion and a desperation he could never have anticipated. He lost himself in the wonder of her touch, her warmth, the accelerated beat of her heart and the way that his own fell into sync with hers of its own accord.

Surprising himself, he was the one to pull away first. Shocked and thrilled but feeling unsteady, he looked at her… to her for guidance on what to do or say next. Biting her swollen lip uncomfortably, Jenny searched for words to say.

Ronnie took her hand and did the noble thing—he gave her an out. He entwined their fingers more tightly and pulled her beside him as he started to walk back toward her house. "I know how much you love Joe," he said honestly. "He makes you happy, and you two were meant to be together. Nobody… I'll never tell a soul, Jenny. But thank you for… for that gift. And know that… no matter when I am… no matter what happens… I'm on your side… in your corner. And if you ever change your mind," he said, pulling her hand hard so that she was forced to turn and face him, "if you decide that he's not the one or if things don't work out between you, don't look for anyone else. Just find me. I wanna be first in line."

HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH… HHH…. HHH… HHH… HHH…

As she sat in her car waiting uncomfortably for her boss to reappear, Agent Shaw received an unexpected phone call.

"Hello, Agent Shaw, this is Dr. Brennan."

"Hello, Dr. Brennan."

"I… This… I find myself unable to explain in any rational way why I'm making this call to you."

"Are you calling about Special Agent Booth?"

"Yes. I apologize for troubling you after hours, but I… I was wondering if you had seen Booth. I haven't been able to reach him."

Swallowing hard and using every ounce of her FBI training, the agent continued as honestly as she could despite the very damning circumstances, "I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan. I haven't seen Booth in a while." That was true. It was a half-truth, but there was no point upsetting the woman more than she already was. Telling her that Booth was in that house with another woman… No, she couldn't tell her that.

"I see…. Of course… It's just that…."

"You're worried about him."

"Yes."

"Agent Booth is fine, Dr. Brennan. He was rather angry this afternoon, but I'm sure he'll come home soon."

"What you say is perfectly logical. However, I find that today, I am feeling more irrational than logical."

"Perhaps it's the hormones, Dr. Brennan. I have a child. I remember struggling with my emotions when I was pregnant."

"Yes. Of course. That must be it."

Instead of hanging up as she normally would, Brennan remained on the line.

"Dr. Brennan, is there something I can do to help?"

"Thank you, Agent Shaw. If you…," she heard the woman's voice tremble with emotion, "if you see or hear from Booth, please tell him that I called and that I'm worried about him. Please tell him I asked that he come home."

"Sure thing, Dr. Brennan. I… I'm sure he'll be home soon," the agent lied. As she hung up the phone, she swallowed hard. She'd gotten herself into this mess by tailing her boss without permission and without a really good reason for doing so. What the hell had she been thinking?

At just that moment, the door to the house opened, and Booth came into view. She watched as he checked his phone, ignored the call, and whispered something to the woman standing there. She smiled at him and embraced him. The pair stood embracing for longer than unmarried adults typically would in public before Booth turned and walked toward his SUV. The woman yelled something to him, and he turned, shook his head with a grin, and blew her a kiss. She blew one back with a flourish before waving and closing the door.

If she'd had time to think about it, Agent Shaw would have considered the fact that following Booth back was much harder than following him out earlier. He shifted lanes, took a circuitous route back toward the office, and drove at inconsistent speeds. However, she was too busy following him and trying not to be seen that she missed all the signs of textbook evasive driving.

Caught up in dodging the traffic around her while trying to follow her boss at a safe and unrecognized distance, she didn't see Booth shift lanes again. Stuck driving too quickly and without anywhere to maneuver, she was forced to pass her boss's SUV. Looking straight ahead and trying to camouflage her appearance, she drove past the car. Breathing hard and with hands shaking from the shock of near discovery, she swallowed hard and decided she was driving straight home. She'd been crazy to follow Agent Booth anyway. She wasn't going to risk getting caught.

Just as she relaxed and made a turn toward her own suburb, she saw the flash of lights and heard the siren. Her heart sank as she realized that she'd been seen and that she had some serious explaining to do. Groaning loudly, she pulled her car to the side of the road.

Booth pulled up behind the vehicle and turned off the car. He left the lights flashing and turned off the siren. He felt like jumping right out, but he decided that he needed a minute to cool off and that Shaw deserved a few more minutes to squirm.

When he figured he'd made her worried enough, he stepped out of the car and headed in her direction.

"Oh, hi, Special Ag….," Shaw began.

"Cut the crap, Shaw."

"Yes, sir."

"You'd better have a damned good reason for tailing me," Booth snarled.

"No, sir."

"Excuse me?"

"I… I don't have a good reason—not one you'd accept, anyway. I apologize, sir. It won't happen again. I promise."

"Nice try, Shaw. Tell me what the hell you're doing."

"I… I was worried about you, sir. You've been so angry all day. And… I was just worried."

"You are not my mother, Shaw. And I don't need a babysitter. Did Bones put you up to this?"

"No… No, sir. She did call earlier, but I was already parked… outside." Shaw gulped hard. She hadn't planned to bring up what she'd seen, but now the unspoken accusation now rang loudly between them.

"What I do on my own time is my own business, you hear me, Shaw?"

"Yes, sir."

"If you EVER pull a stunt like that again, I'll have you fired. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Booth watched as the clearly terrified agent looked up at him questioningly. The kid had guts.

"What is it, Shaw?" Booth asked as he leaned on the car and glared at the woman.

"Nothing. Sorry, sir. I'm really sorry for invading your privacy. I had no right."

"You are right about that. But you're tempted to ask me something anyway. What is it?"

"I… Well, I don't mean any disrespect, sir, but…," she stopped, uncertain how to continue. Booth just glared at her impatiently.

"I… I know you're not married or anything, and I won't ever say anything, and I'm trying not to be judgmental, but I… you always struck me as the type of man who would be faithful and monogamous… sir."

Booth stared at Shaw and then he focused his gaze in an attempt to make her feel small and scared. It worked. "You are way the hell out of line, Shaw. And unless you have enough evidence to convince Caroline Julian that I'm guilty of something… you'd better keep your suspicions to yourself."

With that he turned and walked back to his car. Trembling, Shaw cranked her government-issue sedan and pulled out onto the road. Her mind raced as she envisioned the many ways Booth would make her life miserable. Her dreams of moving up in the ranks evaporated quickly.

The buzz of her phone startled her so that she half-swerved her car into the lane to her left. Shaky, she answered, "Shaw."

"I'm sure you meant well, Shaw, but you overstepped. So much that you should be towing the line carefully and stay nervous about disappointing me again for a long time."

"Yes, sir."

"You don't deserve an explanation, but I don't want you thinking I'm guilty of what you were thinking earlier."

She was too terrified to respond. She hadn't expected him to reveal anything to her about his visit to the woman.

"She's my sponsor, Shaw. I am a recovering addict (that's as much detail as you're ever getting), and she's my sponsor. Has been for years. Bones knows her, and she's married, and she's a great person to talk to when I'm pissed off and might make a stupid decision. So get your dirty mind out of the gutter when you're thinking about me, Shaw. I'm faithful to Bones. Don't you ever doubt that again."

"No, sir. Again, I'm really sorry, sir."

"You meant well, Shaw. Just don't do that again."

"Right. Thanks, sir. Good night."

Booth was on the verge of hanging up when he heard Shaw speak again, "Sir?"

"What the hell do you want now, Shaw?" he barked.

"Dr. Brennan asked me to tell you that she's worried about you and that she wants you to go home," she said hesitantly, "Good night, Sir." She clicked off the call.

Exhausted as he was and knowing that Bones had to be worried, Booth still couldn't make himself drive back home. Instead, he turned his phone off and checked into a hotel. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The sound of someone knocking on his door later woke him. One hand on his gun, he checked the peephole. Then he sighed audibly.

"Go home, Bones."

"No."

"Bones, I don't want to talk to you."

"You're angry."

"That's an understatement."

"You're justifiably angry."

"Again with the understatement."

"I'm sorry, Booth."

"I know. Stop using that app to track where I am. Go home, Bones. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Please, Booth. Let me in."

Frustrated, he wrenched the door open. "This whole thing started because you were being stubborn and wouldn't listen to me, Bones. And you're doing it again. Now is not the time to mess with me. Go home."

"I don't like it when you're angry with me, Booth."

"Well maybe you should think about that before you do something out of line that you know will piss me off!"

"I overstepped. Angela helped me put my actions into perspective. I realize now that I shouldn't have called the Deputy Director. I… undermined your authority. It appeared disrespectful—in front of your colleagues. You have a right to be angry. I'm sorry, Booth. Truly sorry."

"Thank you for apologizing. Now go," he replied.

"What? Can't I stay? I miss you. I've been so worried…."

"This isn't a small fight, Bones. I'm still mad, and no amount of apologizing will stop that. Go home. Let me cool off. We will talk about this, but now is not the time."

"Oh… okay," she said, her voice trailing off and her face a mask of barely concealed fear and confusion. It was clear that she had anticipated that an apology might make things right between them again. The fact that it hadn't left her in unfamiliar territory. Booth was rather patient and forgiving with her in general—as she tried to be with him. Now that she'd pushed him past those limits, old fears about not measuring up and not being what he needed in a lover rose to the forefront.

As she entered the hallway, he called out to her, "Go home and get some rest. You and the baby need it. We'll be okay, Bones. I just… I need some more time to cool off."

She nodded, tears threatening to fall, "I really am sorry, Booth," she whispered.

He couldn't help it. She looked so fragile and so scared—things that he couldn't accept in Bones because he knew she showed those rare emotions only to him. He took a step forward and pulled her into his arms. Damn, she felt good. He was tempted to pull her into the room, but he knew that letting her stay wouldn't show her how upset he was with her. "I love you, Bones. I just… I'm still angry. I'll call you tomorrow. We'll talk."

"Okay," she said as she turned to walk toward the elevators.

HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH….

The next morning when Booth checked out of his room, the front desk clerk handed him a message. Squinting at it as Bones would a corpse, he shook his head and grimaced. Sighing heavily, he scrubbed a hand over his clean-shaven face and turned to head back down the hallway. He should have known his partner would take his words literally—she always did.

Arriving at Room 545, he raised a fist and rapped on the door. A few moments later, it opened.

"Thank you for meeting me here," Temperance said in greeting. She looked exhausted and still really anxious.

"Bones, you can't just schedule things like this. If it were you… if I'd been that out of line at the lab… you'd still be angry."

"So you're still angry with me?" she asked.

"Yeah… I am. Anger isn't something you just turn on and off. I'll probably stay mad about this for a while, Bones."

"I don't know what that means… will you be staying at the hotel all that time?"

He sighed again and brushed by her and into the room. The hotel hallway was no place to have this kind of conversation. He placed his gym bag on the dresser and crossed the room to sit in a chair. When he looked up at her, he saw that she'd followed him and perched on the edge of the bed.

The covers were barely rumpled, but it was obvious that she'd been in those same clothes for hours. Taking in the dark circles under her eyes, he deduced that she'd barely slept.

"Bones, you didn't sleep."

"Even next door to you, I found it difficult to rest knowing that you were so angry with me. I… I've grown accustomed to your warmth… your embrace. No, I didn't rest well."

"You know that I'm not leaving you just because I get mad, right?"

"Logically, I know that to be true; however, when you are angry with me, I do find myself irrationally worried."

He looked carefully at her. Everything about her posture and the expression on her face told him that she really felt bad about what she'd done. He really didn't think she deserved to be let off the hook, but he was losing the will to keep her at a distance.

"I saw Karen yesterday," he said simply.

"Oh," she responded, swallowing hard. Booth hadn't seen the need to visit his sponsor for quite some time. The fact that he had told her even more about how angry he'd been with her.

"I haven't felt that tempted to gamble in a long time, Bones."

"Oh, Booth… you didn't… did you?"

"No. But it helped to talk to Karen about the way you took away the control I had at work, the way you undermined me in front of Sweets and Shaw… plus the fact that you let that jerk look at you and say things to you…."

"I'm not making excuses. But I wanted to expedite the end of the case so as to minimize your pain and frustration. I thought that obtaining a quicker confession would bring you peace sooner. I realize now that the cost of doing so made that course of action unwise."

"Your actions were illogical."

"Me? No. I may have been wrong, but I'm always logical."

"Not this time."

"I don't want to argue with you Booth, but I really must disagree."

"We could have had another agent pretend to be pregnant. Or sent in another pregnant agent to question him. You didn't have to be the one there."

She paused, considering his suggestion carefully. "I suppose you are right—there were alternatives."

"But you chose to do whatever the hell you wanted without discussing the alternatives with me."

Revealing her sincerity, she nodded.

He looked up at her, seeing that she had genuinely been trying to help him put the case behind him. He read her as well as he ever did—not needing words between them to see through her carefully constructed façade designed to hide her vulnerability. She'd just done what she'd seen as the only the logical thing to expedite matters instead of considering how he'd feel about it. He knew she wasn't mean-spirited at all and hadn't realized that she'd had other options.

Seeing his gaze soften a bit, she rose and reached out to take his hand, "I am sorry, Booth. I never meant to hurt you. My esteem for your skill and your abilities remains high. I apologize if my actions told you otherwise."

He let his head drop back against the back of the chair and sighed again. After a long time, he pulled on her hand until she collapsed into his lap. Cramming both of them into the relatively small arm chair wasn't easy, but they made it work. He wrapped his arms around her, and she melted into him.

"I love you, Booth. So much," she whispered into his neck.

He held her tightly, letting the feel of her back in his arms calm him as nothing else could.

When he spoke to her a few minutes later and received no response, he realized that she'd already fallen asleep. In that moment, the sleeping woman in his arms was only his lover and friend—not the world famous forensic anthropologist hell-bent on taking on him or anyone else. Instead of dwelling on how out of line she'd been, he was struck by the fact that she'd been unable to sleep because she'd been worrying about how angry he was at her. His frustration with her dissipated against his will. Admiring her beauty as she slept peacefully and knowing how much she needed the rest, he let her sleep. Carefully so as not to rouse her, he moved them both to the bed and pulled the covers over her. After emailing Shaw that he was taking the morning off, he stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers and slipped under the covers. As he pulled her into his arms and dozed off with her, he decided that being with Bones even when she drove him crazy was better than doing everything he could think of to stay away from her. With her in his arms, it was hard to let any argument matter too much. Yes, they would argue—they were damned good at it, but there wasn't an argument big enough to matter more than the fact that they were together and that she loved him as much as he loved her.

As much as part of him still felt like strangling her for being a bigger pain in the ass than usual, he knew that imagining doing something like that to her and actually doing it were entirely different things. He moved his hand to her growing stomach and rubbed it gently. Dealing with her stubbornness and the fact that she drove him crazy was just the price he had to pay for the unconventional family they were creating.

In her sleep, Temperance moved her hand over his and laced her fingers through his. As she mumbled, "Love you so much, Booth," he pulled her closer, realizing that the costs of being in a relationship with her still didn't come close to the benefits. He sent up a prayer of gratitude and for patience before falling into a peaceful slumber behind her.


	6. Chapter 6

[A/N: Those of you reading are phenomenally patient, extremely observant (to the point of pointing out perfectly the things I forgot about or didn't keep consistent), and extraordinarily generous with your time and your reviews. I am very grateful for your input and for the time you spend here. Not sure if this is headed where I planned for it to go, but I'm thrilled to be writing again and enjoying working through this story idea. Thanks for being along for the ride. Please let me know what you think about this chapter.

This goes without saying, but I don't own Bones or its characters. However, I do so enjoy watching the show and pondering the characters minds greater than mine created.]

Chapter 5 – Keep Your Problems and Your Failures To Yourself

_Until you have a son of your own . . . you will never know the joy, the love beyond feeling that resonates in the heart of a father as he looks upon his son. You will never know the sense of honor that makes a man want to be more than he is and to pass something good and hopeful into the hands of his son. And you will never know the heartbreak of the fathers who are haunted by the personal demons that keep them from being the men they want their sons to be._ ~Kent Nerburn~

"Out with it," Hank barked at his grandson.

"What?" Booth replied in that somewhat squeaky voice he used to pretend that he wasn't lying. Instead of making eye contact with the older man, he continued to stare at the remnants of his hamburger as if they might offer him some sight or words of wisdom.

"Stop beating around the bush. Something's eating at you, and you're stalling. Don't you think I recognize a 'Seeley Stall' when I see one?"

"Who me? Stall?" Booth joked lamely as he realized his grandfather had seen straight through him.

"You made an art of evading difficult conversations, Shrimp. If the Internet had been around when you were a kid, you could have had a web site giving kids advice on ways to postpone telling their parents and other grownups about stuff."

"Nah…. Not me. I'm still not a big fan of the Internet," Booth replied.

"Stop trying to change the subject, kid." Booth squirmed in his seat and, for a few minutes, felt as if he were back in school. No point trying to avoid the conversation now—he knew that Pops wasn't going to let this slide.

"Fine… It's just… Parker's a great kid, you know?" Booth began hesitantly.

His grandfather frowned at him impatiently, "You're preaching to the choir, Seeley."

"Yeah. Well, he is… he's fantastic_. _It's just… Well… lately….," Booth stammered, still not convinced he was ready to talk about this.

"He's being a pain in the ass? Testing you… and Temperance?" his grandfather filled in the blanks for him.

Booth dropped his French fry and stared at his grandfather as if he'd reached inside his head and emptied it out. "Yeah. I mean, I get that finding out that I dumped Hannah right after pushing him so hard to like her and then being told that I'm already with Bones would be tough. Add the baby that's coming and he's bound to be feeling insecure and worried about what else will change. So I've cut him some slack, but he's out of control, and lately—he's not acting like he cares very much if I'm mad at him."

When his grandfather just looked at him, Booth continued, "I mean… I can make grown men who are dangerous criminals cry, but my kid isn't scared of me at all anymore."

"What did he do?" Hank inquired.

"Well, he smarted off to Bones the other day… yelled at her that she wasn't his mom and really was disrespectful. Made it worse by getting in my face about it, too."

"And you punished him for it?"

"Well, like I said, I tried cutting him some slack and just talking to him, but that didn't work. And when I grounded him, he pulled such an attitude. I mean… who does he think he is talking to Bones and me like that?"

"That's tough. You've gotta get his attention before he gets out of control. You know, I heard a story about this one kid that had been very much on the straight and narrow… who up and got a job and lied to his parents about it. And even after they found out about it, he kept sneaking around to work it anyway. He was about Parker's age, I think."

Booth eyed his grandfather carefully and then frowned at him hard. He knew his grandfather was just trying to give him a new perspective, but he was too wound up to let that help, "I needed that job, Pops. That job saved my life."

"Yeah, but you shouldn't have lied about it."

"Well, we're talking about Parks right now. That's not all he did. What really makes me crazy is the way he's been acting about this girl. He's way too young to be that much into any girl. I mean… he's what… 12½ ? And suddenly he's Casanova? I know the kid is cute and that he's going to have the Booth charm and the way with the ladies," he said winking at the elder Booth who'd nodded more than once at passing ladies as they'd eaten their meal and been rewarded with warm smiles from all of them—even those half his age.

"Like I said, it's great that he's good with the ladies. It's just… this sexting thing has got to stop. I work for the FBI. I could get into legal trouble… lose my job."

"What the hell is sexting?"

"Texting inappropriate stuff… and pictures."

"Parker did that?"

"Yeah. Well, sort of… the kid version of it, anyway—not the real stuff. He wasn't listening to me the other day, so I grabbed his phone and found a whole string of messages that weren't what I'd approve of. So I took his phone away."

Hank commiserated with Seeley a few more minutes. Then he demanded that Booth finish the story he'd stopped telling. He watched as his grandson's expression darkened and his face became taut with stress.

"When I took his phone away, he got up in my face. Then he asked me if I was afraid he was going to sleep around and get a girl pregnant," Booth said in a low voice as he fiddled with the edge of his napkin. "And then he said that he might be a bastard but that he knew better than to have one."

"Seeley," his grandfather started.

Booth held up one hand a bit to stall his grandfather so that he could just spit the rest of what was bugging him out, "I suppose I deserve it. But I hated feeling like he thought I had done the wrong thing. I asked him where he heard that word, and he said that a kid at school yelled it at another kid during a fight. He doesn't get that it's just slang… inappropriate slang. He looked it up and read the dictionary definition put two and two together. I… I know nothing's really changed, but I hate to have him think less of himself or of me because of it."

"He'll be fine. He's a good kid. He'll come around. Just give him some time and space."

"But the way he looked at me, Pops. I… I disappointed him."

"When he stops to think about everything else… the way you love him… all the things you've taught him… the way he can count on you… really count on you."

"I've set a terrible example. I should have… I should have made Rebecca marry me… for Parker…."

"Marrying that girl would have been a mistake. You'd have ended up divorced in under a year. You'd have ended up hating each other. Parker's just pushing you away the way all teenagers do."

"Easy for you to say… You and Grandma were together forever. And Mom and Dad… well, they stayed together even when they shouldn't. I… It must look to him like I took the easy, selfish way out. It wasn't my choice or what I wanted, but it looks like that to my kid… and it might to the baby one day."

"You have a big heart, kid. And super swimmers. Deadly combination."

"Pops, I'm really not in the mood for you to tease me."

"You're taking this too hard, son. Parker would try to hit some other nerve if he hadn't found this one. He's testing you… testing your love for him to make sure you'll love him even though he's pulling away. Besides, you're not the only one to have a kid out of wedlock, Seeley."

"But I'm the only one of us… the only Booth."

"No, you're not."

"What?!"

"You heard me."

"You… you had other kids?"

"No, not me. I was too afraid that your grandmother would kill me in my sleep if I looked at another woman too long. Not that I was tempted. I only had eyes for her."

"Who? Mom and Dad were married before I was born… before I was conceived."

Hank shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This was just one more secret he had never intended to share with his grandson. But Seeley was hurting… He still couldn't stand to watch the kid suffer… he'd done more of that than any kid should have far too young. Hank sighed as he chose his words carefully… maybe this would help.

Seeley looked at his grandfather. He waited… hating how much he feared what his grandfather might say next.

"You weren't your parents' first child, son."

HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH….

Three months into Ronnie's service in the military, Jenny and Gabby had gotten used to hearing from him several times a week. So after three weeks with no letters from Ronnie, Jenny had been at her wits' end. She'd worried aloud so much about it that she and Joe had eventually argued about it.

Jenny felt bad about the argument. She knew that part of her still felt guilty for kissing Ronnie before he left… and that a larger part of her felt even more guilty about the fact that she hadn't wanted to stop. She loved Joe. She really did. She couldn't remember not loving Joe. What she felt for Ronnie was different, but she knew that she loved him, too. She missed him so much. She still ached with worry for him and wanted more than anything to know that he was safe.

Jenny also felt guilty when she felt a bit of relief when she heard people downtown talking about the fact that Ronnie's dad was sick. Now that the news was public, she knew that he was more ill than he'd been when Ronnie left. While she couldn't wish the man any harm—he was like an uncle to her—she'd known him her whole life, she couldn't help feeling like his illness meant that Ronnie might come back home to her… home to all of them sooner. Ignoring the pang in her chest and the uncomfortably warm twinge in her stomach when she thought about Ronnie again, Jenny tried to focus on filling out paperwork to request a dorm room to share with Gabby when they moved over to Bryn Mawr College in the fall.

As she filled out the forms, she made a point of reminding herself to call Joe and make plans for a date with him that night. She knew she wasn't being fair to him these days—she had to work things out with him. She only had a few more months here in town with him, and she needed them to be on good footing when she went to college.

HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH….

Joe grinned and then whistled as he swept up and then mopped at his uncle's barber shop the following day. He smiled… remembering last night's date with Jenny had kept him in a good mood all day. It had been a great night. She'd been there… into him and only him in a way she hadn't been in a long time. Things had been perfect—the way they should always be between them. He'd been annoyed with Jenny's preoccupation with Ronnie's letters and his time away, and the fact that something like that could throw them off had made him start worrying that they'd have trouble when she moved away to go to school. He knew they wouldn't be far away and that the brief distance shouldn't matter, but he couldn't help feeling a bit insecure about the fact that she'd be a college girl and he… wouldn't be a college guy.

Joe hadn't been able to follow through on his intention to go to college. Penn State was where he'd hoped to play football. He still wanted to play so much that he had a hard time applying to go to school anywhere that had a team. So, for the last few years, he'd been working. He'd started learning how to cut hair from his uncle and helped out around the shop, too. He did yard work for several people and managed the town boys who had paper routes. He knew that these jobs weren't what he wanted to do forever, but he was making money and paying his way—not just mooching off his parents. He was saving up for things… he needed to get into school and buy a ring for Jenny and save up for a house for them, too. It was a small start, but he'd started. And his working had gotten his dad off his back about school. He kept promising that he'd go soon—maybe with Jenny. That news had led his dad to back off and give him more space to figure out what he was going to do with his life. That was what he needed—time to make his own plans.

The ringing of the phone at the shop pulled Joe out of his thoughts. He crossed the empty shop to answer it and pulled up sharply when he heard who was calling.

HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH….

Joe held Jenny as she cried. She was confused and hurt. And he was the one who had to help explain this to her. He cursed Ronnie again internally for being such a pain in the ass. The guy was a constant source of drama and friction for Jenny and him. Thank God he hadn't died over there. He'd never have been able to compete with the ghost of the guy—not in a million years.

"I… Why won't he let me visit? I don't get it."

"He got hurt pretty bad, Jen… He needs some time to heal… get out of that wheelchair."

"But, he's my friend… we're best friends. I can be there for him. Tell him, Joe. I was there for you, remember? I can help… I… I need to help him. I…."

"Not yet, sweetie. Give him some time. He just needs some time."

"But why is he shutting me out, Joe. And why did he call you? You don't even like him. I just don't get it."

"He knew you'd listen to me. And… well… it's a guy thing. We guys don't like you girls to see us when we're not full strength and whole. It's a pride thing. And maybe… maybe he knew I'd understand… after what I'd been through."

She looked up at him through her tears, and he fell for her all over again. Jenny was so damned beautiful. And he hurt whenever she hurt. He pulled her close, "Shhh… it'll be okay, baby," he cooed as he held her tightly.

HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH….

Joe took advantage of the fact that Jenny wasn't visiting her injured friend and used the chance to distract her and keep her focused on them. The extra time and focus was good for them—they became even closer. He was more attentive, and she smiled more and seemed so much happier when they were together. Their connection always bolstered Joe's spirits. He felt like a big sissy for being so needy—for wanted so much for Jenny to be happy with him, but the truth was the truth. He just wasn't going to tell anyone but her about that.

With the way they were growing even closer, Joe and Jenny had reached a tenuous point in their relationship—closer than ever and still in love. Both had grown up religious and had been told to save intimacy for marriage. Joe believed the concept was noble, but he had a harder and harder time following what he'd been taught. The pull of his body toward Jenny's grew stronger and stronger the more time she spent in his arms. He knew she felt it, too. Their makeout sessions had gradually gotten more and more intense. Keeping themselves from going too far was becoming a bigger and bigger challenge. He loved her, and for her he would wait, but he knew she was struggling with desire, too. Every time he told her how much he loved her, he saw it there—she wanted him the way he wanted her. Although his motives were pure and loving, every poem he penned weakened her resolve a bit more. He swore he wouldn't pressure her and he hadn't; he couldn't. His love for her was too real… too consuming. And seeing the way she looked at him told him that hers for him was the real thing, too. They'd just have to manage their hormones in the short-term because he was in this for the long haul.

Six months later…

Of course Ronnie had caved and allowed Jenny to visit him eventually. They'd talked on the phone during his therapy-until he finally allowed her to visit. He'd made great progress in his therapy and now knew that he would get out of the wheelchair before much longer. Jenny had been thrilled to have time with her friend—she and Gabby were leaving for college in a few weeks, and she needed to know that Ronnie was okay before she left.

Joe struggled to deal with the fact that Jenny was spending so much of their remaining time with Ronnie, but he swallowed back his jealousy. He needed his time with Jenny to be special… perfect. He could grumble about the time spent with soldier-boy later.

Before any of them were ready for it, the time came for the girls to go off to school. On Sunday afternoon, Jenny's parents helped the girls load up the car for the trip and then hosted a small party for the girls before they left for Bryn Mawr. Joe and his parents were there, and Ronnie and his parents had been invited but hadn't shown up. A few other close friends had come by.

Jenny and Joe had been inseparable for the entire last week. Even in front of their parents, the pair had been in close contact physically… they held hands as the made their way around the small group that day. That, or Joe had his arm around her… or his hand around her waist… memorizing the feel of her. More than once, they'd snuck out back to neck and hold one another tightly. Joe felt like he'd stop breathing when she left. 'Til then he was determined to breathe nothing but her air… her essence. She whispered to him of plans for them to visit… that she'd be home again soon… telling him that she loved him. He kissed away her tears and promised her that nothing could ever come between them.

It was as if this milestone gave them permission to be more themselves… less formal and appropriate in the way they interacted in front of their parents than they usually were. Joe had seen his father and Jenny's raise an eyebrow more than once observing how closely he was holding his girlfriend, but he didn't care. His parents had been married by this time. He was going to marry Jenny. He didn't care if he was being inappropriate—he was just holding his girl.

They were talking with one of the neighbors when Jenny glanced outside and abruptly left Joe's side. Surprised by her rude departure from an ongoing conversation, he apologized, excused himself and left to follow her. As he rounded the corner and walked out onto the front porch, he stopped and stared. On the front lawn, Ronnie stood strong and tall, leaning only on a cane for support. He watched as Jenny and Gabby took turns embracing him. He noticed the wince of pain the young man tried to camouflage. He also saw the smile and the look he sent Jenny—the one she seemed oblivious to. He watched as the trio crossed the room and made their way slowly onto the porch. After Ronnie was settled in the front porch swing, Jenny rushed over to him and kissed him full on the lips in front of everyone. Pleased but surprised, he shot her a look of surprise. "I'm just so glad he's here, Joe. And look… he's walking… he's really going to be okay."

"Yeah, baby. Looks like it," he whispered as he watched her smile happily at where Ronnie and Gabby were sitting. Turning her chin toward him, he smiled down at her, "You have such a big heart, Jenny. I love you for it… and for so many other reasons." He leaned down and kissed her… intensely, but chastely since they were surrounded by parents and neighbors.

HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH….

That night, Joe sat alone in his room trying to deal with the huge gaping hole in his life. Jenny was gone. He was planning to drive over on Saturday, but Saturday seemed ages away. He knew that he could leave now and be on the campus in half an hour, but he also knew that he had to give Jenny her space. He had to let her go be a college student… she deserved to have that time that was special… that was hers. This was temporary, but the hole in his gut told him that this could change everything. They lived in different worlds now. It felt more like a long-distance relationship than it really was. So he had to be tough and face this challenge like a man. He didn't have to like it, but he had to stay away to give her time and space to move in and fit in and experience college.

It stung that he hadn't been brave enough to do what Jenny had. He hadn't been able to pick a place and go there. He'd gotten into schools but something had always stopped him from going. He knew now that he should think hard about it. There were other schools nearby where he could enroll—even places close enough to commute to school. He'd have to get serious about making a decision now—or Jenny would finish school before he did. And that would just slow them down on his plans to marry her and start their grown up lives together.

A knock on his door surprised him. Joe cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter before calling out that his door was open. His father walked in and asked how he was doing.

"I'm fine, Dad," Joe lied.

"Bet you're missing Jenny, huh, son?"

Not quite able to meet his dad's eyes, he looked away and nodded.

Hank crossed the room and put a hand on his son's shoulder to offer encouragement. Then he handed him the envelope Jenny had given to him earlier that afternoon.

"She loves you, son. And she's not too far away."

"Thanks, Dad," Joe croaked as he held onto the envelope tightly.

"Your mom and I are here for you, son. If you need to talk... if you need anything."

Joe smiled and nodded at his dad. The elder Booth smirked back at him, rumpled his hair, and left him alone with his letter.

HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH….

Four months later….

Although Joe and Jenny had seen each other often, there was a strain on them now that she was in school. She was out experiencing a whole new world Joe hadn't entered yet, and even though he told himself that he shouldn't, part of him resented the way she was blossoming into a bold new young woman while he was stagnating at home where nothing had changed. He chastised himself because he knew his situation was his own fault. But he felt it—a distance that hadn't been between them before.

He was feeling that distance even more acutely today. He'd come over to the school on this Saturday has he had so many times before, but Jenny had spent more time away at study sessions than she had before. She had exams coming up, and he knew she needed to study. He just wished it wasn't limiting their scarce time together. He tried not to sulk, but he was bored. There was nothing for him to do there on campus except tell himself that he was a failure for not going to a campus of his own to study.

They bickered a bit when Jenny finally met up with him. She felt guilty for leaving him alone so much, and he knew he was in a terrible mood and shouldn't take it out on her. She didn't understand why he was so anxious. This was a tired old fight and they'd had it too many times before. Because he was the only one who know what a huge secret he was hiding from her, they fought and Jenny cried. Then Joe just couldn't take it anymore. Her tears were his undoing. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered as he reached out folded her into his arms. "You haven't done anything wrong. It's just me. I'm… distracted."

"Talk to me, Joe. I hate it when things are like this. What's wrong? Why are you distracted?"

He looked at her and was struck by how much he loved her. He also feared what her reaction might be—he knew it wouldn't be good. But he knew he was running out of time to talk to her.

"I… I'm moving in January… right after Christmas."

She stared at him—shocked and unable to respond.

"Don't be mad at me, Jenny. I mean… I know you will be… but I… I've gotta do this."

"Do what? Move away? Leave me?"

"Not leave you… Just be away for a while."

"Did you decide on a school, Joe? Why all the mystery? What's going on?"

He turned to her and took her hand. Then he told her his secret—the one he hadn't told anyone else. He was surprised when she slapped him hard and then leapt out of the car and ran away.

He followed.

"Jenny, please… please just talk to me."

"No!"

"Jen… Baby…."

"Drive me back to my room, Joe. I'm not talking to you about this."

"But Jen…."

"Drive me home or I'm walking," she said darkly.

So he did.

HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH….

Joe was sweeping up at his uncle's shop again. He'd bowed out after the family holiday meal. He couldn't bear his mother's tears or the tension that had been in his house since he'd told his parents about joining up weeks ago. He couldn't stand the tears in his sister's eyes whenever she looked at him. None of the guys could hang out since it was Christmas. He needed time alone to think. So he went to the shop to have some peace and quiet. He needed to be alone and clear his head. He also needed to do something physical.

Knowing that Jenny had been home for 2 days and that she hadn't come to see him was killing him. He'd known she'd be mad, but he hadn't expected her to freeze him out—screen his calls, stop writing letters, refuse his visits. He had not heard from her once since he'd told her he'd enlisted. He'd gotten so desperate that he visited Ronnie and asked him to talk to her… begged him to reason with her. Ronnie had promised to talk to her, and he seemed to mean it. But despite the painful experience of asking his nemesis for help, Joe had heard nothing. It was as if he were already dead to her—when he might actually die without holding her again. That thought was simply unbearable.

He was lost in the ache of missing her and trying to talk himself out of rushing across town and breaking her door in and begging her to forgive him. He almost didn't hear the knock on the window of the shop. But when he did, his heart stopped.

After swallowing hard, he crossed the shop and unlocked the door, barely able to lock it back as she rushed into his arms. She kissed him hard, and he responded in kind… afraid his heart would explode from the shock and from the pure joy of holding her again after so long.

When she pulled back, tears were streaming. "I hate you, Joe. I hate you for doing this… putting yourself in danger… making me worry… doing something that might put an end to us."

"Please don't hate me, Jen… I love you so much," he whispered before pulling her in for another kiss."

"How… how am I supposed to go to class… to study… to wait for word from you… I can't breathe when I think about it, Joe. Why? Why did you do this to us… to me?"

He turned away and ran a hand through his hair. "I need to do something. Become a man. I'm in limbo here. College… it's not for me, Jen. I can't be there with you, and I don't want to be anywhere else. By the time I'm finished, you'll be finishing school. I can come back and we'll be together…."

"What if something happens to you? What if you get hurt like Ronnie did? What if… what if you die over there?"

"I won't… I promise. I'll stay safe. I'll come back to you Jenny. Nobody can keep me away from you. Nothing will keep us apart. Tell me you still love me. Tell me that, and no soldier or bullet or anything will threaten me. I'll come back for you… for us."

"You can't promise that," she whispered as she ran her fingertips over his beautiful cheek bones.

"I promise you I'll come back. I swear. I love you so much, Jenny. Missing you has been so hard. But if I know that I have you to come home to, nothing will stop me. I swear."

She looked up at him and realized that he did feel that he had to do this. Her fear was still strong, but her anger melted away. She loved him so much. "I love you, Joe. Please promise me you'll come back. I'll be here.. waiting… only for you."

Wordlessly, they gave themselves to one another. Without speaking about what they were doing, the pair made their way to the back room where Joe's uncle's storeroom. There was a small bed back there—Joe's uncle sometimes slept at the shop when he was in the doghouse with his wife—which was often.

It was small and sparse and not the intensely romantic scene Joe had envisioned for the first time they gave themselves to one another physically, but everything else about that night… that moment… that connection… had been perfect. As he held her tightly in his arms, Joe realized once again that he was the luckiest man on the planet.

He turned Jenny's face toward his and looked at her with all the love and affection he could muster. "I… I love you so much, Jenny. I promise I'll come back for you."

She smiled up at him and kissed him lightly. He pulled back and poured his heart out to her, "Marry me, Jenny… When I get back… Promise me that you'll marry me and that we can be together like this forever. I'll get down on one knee and ask you the right way when I get back. Marry me, baby, it's all I want… you're all that I want."

"Of course I'll marry you, Joe. I've been in love with you forever."

He kissed her, and passion flared anew… binding the lovers together even more tightly.

HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH….

"I had a sister? How… why didn't anyone ever say anything?" Booth asked, still stunned by his grandfather's announcement.

"What was the point, Shrimp? Telling you would have only made you sad."

"But a sister… I had the right to know."

"She wasn't full term and didn't survive the delivery, son. Your mother was always ashamed of getting pregnant before being married. We didn't help much. It was a different time. These things just weren't acceptable. Jenny's parents made her quit school and sent her to stay with relatives in California. Your father… she didn't tell him the news. It was only when she got the high blood pressure and got sick that I called your father and told him. He went AWOL… got in big trouble for that later… he flew to California and stayed with her a week… He married her out there… without any of us around. And then she lost the baby. She was depressed about the baby, and he was arrested by the MPs and hauled back overseas. It was a dark time for everyone, son. Too much pain… too much heartbreak."

"Dad went AWOL to come home for her… for the baby?" Seeley asked nonplussed.

"Just like you did for Parker, son. Your dad loved your mom… and your sister Rosie… and you and Jared, too."

"Rosie… I… I just can't believe nobody ever said anything… Mom… when did it happen?"

"What?"

"My sister… when did she die?"

"July 4th… it was July 4th that year."

"She never wanted to go out and see the fireworks. That one year we all went, she cried. I just thought she was really patriotic…."

"Seeley, I didn't tell you this to upset you. I… I mean, I know it has, but I really just wanted you to stop beating yourself up. Everyone makes mistakes, and you… you've always been responsible… done the right thing."

"Thanks… Thanks, Pops. I… I'm glad you told me."

HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH…HHH….

The slam of the front door caused Temperance to wake up abruptly. "Booth?" she called out, instinctively concerned about him.

He was there at her side, kissing her, falling into their bed and pulling her over to him without words.

A few minutes later, she pulled back, smirking at him and eyeing him carefully at the same time, "I find that I rather enjoy being woken this way," she flirted.

"I know what else you enjoy," he husked, attacking her neck as if to devour her.

"Booth… are you… is everything all right?"

"Yeah. I just… I'll talk to you about it later, okay? Now I just feel like showing the woman I love how crazy I am about her and how I never want to take her love and the family we're making for granted… not for a second," he declared before she rejoined their lips together.

Later, after they'd promised their love and forged their bodies together blissfully, Booth held her and told her what Hank had told him that night. She held him and listened intently, reassuring him that she loved him despite his history—all of it.


End file.
